Avengers 20
by Verisimilitude1218
Summary: In the near future, Loki has won. The Avengers have lost. Yet their children survive. Two of them under Loki's control and two of them in the care of Nick Fury. Now, the kids have grown up and the stakes are beginning to rise. Which side will win?
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N. I own nothing related to the Avengers franchise. Phoebe Stark is a character of my own creation and she will be joined by others. Please enjoy.)_

Loki bent down, held out his hand and smiled, "Come here, little one. I won't hurt you. Come with me and I can show you wonderful things. Beautiful, wonderful things." The girl looked back at him with wide eyes, and shook her head. She was crouched under the table hugging the leg, attempting to hide herself.

"No."

"Are you sure, little child? Think about it. Don't you want to know, to experience true freedom?"

She shook her head and clung closer to the table leg.

"She's six, Loki, six years old. To her, true freedom means being able to stay up past eight thirty."

Loki turned around, Tony Stark stood in his Iron Man suit, now battered and falling apart. He looked pathetic and weak in his opinion. Stark's face was exposed, sweaty and full of concern. He was leaning against the wall, unable to support himself on his own.

"You may be right about that Stark," he stood contemplative for a moment, and then grabbed the girl's wrist pulling her closer, and arranged his grip, both her arms were pinioned to her sides, and his staff was held up to her chest. She continued to squirm. He smirked, "But, maybe once she experiences freedom, she'll enjoy it. Who would you be to stop it? You wouldn't be able to do anything. You can't do anything more to stop me. Once she reaches child bearing age, I can show her what true freedom really is. How old is that on Midgard? Fourteen? Fifteen? That's only around ten years, plenty of time to mold her mind beforehand…"

"If you even touch a hair on my daughter's head, I swear…"

Loki smirked, the hand holding Stark's daughter, traveled to her scalp and plucked out a single strand. He then let his fingers slide down through her hair. He even brushed a strand away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She flinched when he pulled the hair and still squirmed in his grip.

"Stop touching me," she cried as tried to free herself; it was like watching a turtle stuck on its back, "Daddy, a stranger is touching me."

"Quiet yourself, child. And I am no stranger, my name is Loki. I am from Asgard," he said sternly.

"Phoebe, remember what I told you," Stark shouted, almost gleefully.

The girl nodded. And Loki felt a thump against his shin. The girl began to fall but he lifted right back up gripping her under her armpits. Then he let go.

"Do not tell me you thought that would work. Surely, you are smarter than that, Phoebe."

Stark still stood back, "A little higher, Phoebe."

She lifted her leg, but Loki caught her right in time, and swept one arm under her leg and scooped her up, so he was holding her near his shoulder. She was tiny for a six year old, and he was able to hold her in one arm without an issue. He laughed as she fidgeted.

"Now calm down," he said putting on his gentlest voice, "I said I would not hurt you, and I do not want to hurt you. I really do not."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with fright and confusion, he noted he had the same eyes as her mother who lay dead, in the room next door but she had many features from her father. Did she also have his talents?

"Put her down, Loki, and let's finish this like men."

He couldn't help but smirk, "Okay, Stark," he put the girl down gently, as soon as her feet touched the floor, she scampered off, "What a sweet little girl you've raised. She will grow up to be quite pretty. It is too bad you will not be able to protect her much longer. You are half dead, already. Your team is gone; all that is left is my brother who hides with his son in Asgard. You were wrong that day, Stark, I am on top."

By now, he was right in front of Stark. Loki pulled up his staff and bought it to Stark's chest. Stark looked down and laughed, "Did you finally start taking those pills?"

He stuck the staff into Stark's chest, there was terrible cracking sound, and Stark looked down, his eyes were glazing over., with one quick pull Loki yanked the reactor out of Stark's chest and let him pitch forward to the floor with a crash.

"Good bye," he said. Stark turned to him. Loki could see the life leaving Stark's eyes. Loki bent down and grabbed the crushed piece of metal, "A trophy for myself," he said, "to remember this day by. And do not worry about your daughter. I will be sure to take good care of her."

Loki watched as he lay on the floor, left to die, like he had with the others. They had wriggled on the floor like fish out of water, gasping for life, with darkness fading over them, trying to grasp for that last bit of strength that they would use to drag him down with them. He smirked, and watched Stark's eyes widened in fear as he took on Stark's image from his hair down to his shoes.

"No," Stark whispered.

"Yes, Stark. Don't you think that your little girl will believe anything you tell her, for instance that Daddy and the man were only sparring because he wanted to make sure he could protect her while he goes away? How does that sound? Or would you rather I told her the truth?"

"You bastard," Stark tried rise, but he knelt on Starks chest, so their faces were mere inches apart, "You think you can win?"

"Yes. Now," he said, pulling his knee off Stark's chest, "I need to go see my daughter."

Stark gasped, sucking down air, in funny uneven breathes, for a moment Loki thought, it was because he was having trouble breathing, but he realized that he was crying. He smirked, the others had cried as well, even Agent Romanov, who he had almost began to think could not shed tears. He took a minute to adjust his clothing, and left Stark, humiliated and pathetic, to fade away.

It would be so easy to manipulate the girl, that he knew. She was a child, and probably still believed in the Midgardian tales of the Santa Claus, Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. But of course, she only believed these because of the stories she had been told. She'd probably believe anything her father told her. It would be so much more of a victory for him to get her to go with him willingly. Lies, trickery, deceit, manipulation, deception, just made the whole game so much more interesting.

The door to her room wasn't locked but was rather clumsily barricaded by a chair and a stack of books, he carefully maneuvered his way around them and made his way to the bed.

"Hey, Phoebe, it's me. It's Daddy."

He saw something rustle from under the mound of stuffed animals and blankets on the bed, and then Phoebe's head poked out. It looked like she had been crying, but as soon as she saw him, she broke out into a smile. He sat himself beside her, and let her lay her head on his shoulder. She cuddled into him. He put his arm around her.

"Are you okay, kiddo? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine, Daddy. Did the bad man go away?"

He chuckled and started to ruffle her hair, "It's okay, sweetie. Everything's okay. That wasn't a bad man. That was a friend of Daddy's. You see, Daddy has to go away for awhile and since there is a bad man out there, a real bad man, I wanted to make sure he could protect you. I'm sorry he scared you but I needed to make sure he could fight well because you know f he could beat me then he's really strong," he tousled her hair, "Since he did well, I need you to go with him while Mommy and I go on the trip, do you understand?"

"Why can't I go with you?"

"This is a very important, secret trip. I am sorry. Next time you can come with us. But as for now I need you to be a good girl for Daddy's friend, alright?"

She nodded, "Alright, Daddy. Alright."

"That's my girl. I'll see you when I come home."

She hugged him. The sudden gesture surprised him a little but he returned it and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She smiled.

"I got to go now. But Daddy's friend is right outside. He will be right in okay?"

"Okay, Daddy. I love you."

"Love you too."

She kept her arms hung around his neck for a few moments and kissed his cheek. She had no idea that he wasn't her father, and it was just a façade. That it was just a glamour and that she'd never see him again and what would be her last memory of her father was just a lie. She'd never know.

"I have to go now."

He kissed the top of her head, stroked her hair and smiled. She smiled. It was almost sad that Stark wasn't here to witness this, her last moments with her father, and that she currently trusted him wholeheartedly. He left the room, and closed the door slowly. He looked down at the floor. Stark had stopped moving. He wasn't sure if he was dead but it didn't matter. If he wasn't dead now, he would be soon.

He undid the glamour, reverting back to his original appearance. He adjusted his clothing, and opened the door. Phoebe was still on her bed, she sat on the edge with her legs hanging off.

She looked at him, her eyes wide and tentative, her body had turned rigid and tense, like prey cornered by a predator. Despite, what "her father" had told her she still seemed nervous, and unsure of whether he was too be trusted. Smart girl.

Without being invited to do so, he sat on the bed beside her. She inched away from him. He inched in a little closer.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, little one. I thought your father told you. I did not realize. Are you alright?"

She nodded. He went to ruffle her hair, to calm her down, but she shrank away from him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Phoebe. I promise I won't hurt you" he cooed, his voice quiet, gentle, and soothing, "I'm not going to hurt you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she whispered, and looked down, avoiding his gaze, staring at her kicking feet. She wasn't wearing shoes, just socks, with purple and white stripes, bunched down around her ankles, "I understand. Daddy told me everything. He told me you were just sparring."

"Yes, we were," he said, "I must have frightened you with my behavior. I did not mean to. I feel first impressions are very important and I am afraid made a very bad first impression. But I also believe in second chances. Will you give me a second chance?"

He held out his hand. The girl looked up, and at his hand, "Okay," and held out her own hand and put it in his, it was small, soft and cold. He bought it close to himself and kissed it lightly. Her cheeks turned bright red, she broke out into a gap toothed smile, and giggled.

"Where I am from," he said, "that is the proper way to greet a lady. My name is Loki."

"I'm Phoebe," she said, her voice still giggly, like any other woman, a few words, a kind smile, and the traditional hand-kiss, it was enough for her to trust him, it was even easier with children. Short memories, and moldable minds, he'd be able to convince her of anything in just a few short days. He smiled to himself. Even if he had only one or two of the children, it would be a victory for him.

"It is nice to meet you, Phoebe."

She smiled, and looked down shyly. How fast a child can change their opinions on a person, he thought. Not a half hour ago, she had hidden away from him frightened, now she trusted him maybe not fully, not yet, at least. So naïve…with a near blank slate for a mind, he could do whatever he wished with it. The girl yawned, and began to rub at her eyes.

"Are you tired, little one?"

She nodded, and he smiled, "Well, then we should be on our way. You can go to sleep when we get home."

He went and ruffled her hair, then tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, her hair was thick, tangled and seemed to fall into her face as though it were attracted by a magnet. He picked up the blanket she had half draped around her legs. It was a slightly raggedy thing with faded

"It's chilly out," he whispered, "I would hate for you to fall ill."

He lifted her up, as though by instinct, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging like a baby monkey. So easy, he thought as she leaned her head on to his shoulder, simple, he thought, as her breaths became more rhythmic. Yes, it was so easy. And now he had a prize, a trophy to keep as a memento of his glorious victory, one to do with whatever he pleased. He grinned.

"Sleep well, little one," he whispered, into her ear, "Sleep well."

_(Stay tuned. Chapter 2 is on its way. Reviews and criticisms welcome.)_


	2. Chapter 2

_(A/N Sorry about the title. It was meant to be Avengers 2.0 not 20. My mistake. Hope you liked it._ _This second chapter is from Fury's POV. Once again, I do not own the Avengers. However Phoebe Stark is still my own creation.) _

Nick Fury bent down over Tony Stark's corpse, "You damn idiot, you thought you could take him on your own didn't you?" Fury stared at the body, Stark's face was sticky with dried sweat and blood. His eyes were halfway open. He would have known he was dying. He would have known there was nothing he could do about it. It would have been slow and painful. He sighed, "You poor son of a bitch." He closed Stark's eyes, and covered him up with a sheet.

"Sir, we found Pepper," Agent Hill said. He nodded his head in understanding."Judging by her appearance, she didn't go without a fight…"

"Any sign of Stark's kid?" he interrupted. He didn't want

"No sir," she said shaking her head, "There's no sign of her. No body. No blood. Not even a hair. He took her. He must have. I don't know what else could have happened. It wouldn't have been hard. He would have been able to do it without a struggle."

"Damn," he whispered under his breath, "We lost one."

Fury got up, and went straight to Phoebe's room, to see if maybe he could find some clue. The room was a mess, though from what he knew about her, that wasn't odd .A chair lay sideways in front of the door way, and books were scattered across the room, along with more random objects; LEGOs, clothes, bits of computers and a half built robot. She was Stark's kid alright. He bent down and picked up one of the stuffed animals beside the bed, it was a teddy bear, well worn and well loved. Obviously it had been one of her favorites. It had bright eyes and one of those sewn on mouths that seemed to be in a perpetual frown. He stared at it.

"You sick bastard," he muttered holding the toy, "Why take her? What use can you get out of a six year old girl, Loki? What do you want with her? What?"

He stopped there, he didn't… he couldn't continue the thought. He lost another. Another Avenger, and this time a child he had promised to protect. He had told Tony and Pepper that he'd take her in should anything happen to them. He had told the same to Steve and Bruce. When he had arrived at their homes, he had found a similar sight.

Broken, bloody bodies on the floor, twisted and contorted in pain. Steve Rogers's arm was stretched out, grasping for some object he'd never be able to get to. Bruce Banner's house,it was horrid, he'd never thought he'd see the Hulk's corpse, decapitated. Even he had believed in his resilience.

But with them, he had been able to save their children, their little boys who sat huddled in dark corners, exhausted and crying, bruised and unsure of what happened. Banner's son, who was a few months younger than Phoebe, the two were very close, he was halfway to transforming, he couldn't control himself, and the grunts coming from the closet, were proof of his struggle. He had needed to use a sleeping dart to knock the boy out, so he wouldn't turn on them. Luckily, it had worked.

Roger's kid, was bruised and bloody. From his garbled cries, Fury had managed to figure out that the boy had tried attacking Loki, by jumping on his back and scratching at him and throwing wild punches and kicks. Loki had thrown him off, and he had tumbled across the scattered debris on the floor. He had seen his father being murdered.

He had expected to find Phoebe too, in some hidden room protected by secret passwords, or huddled under the blanket in her room; scared, shivering, hurt but alive. She should have been safe. She should be there ready and waiting. Stark would have had some kind of plan. Should have at least.

But now there was nothing. He would have even preferred to find a corpse, eyes staring into the distance, left next to her father, as though Loki made him watch, all the blood drained out in to a sticky puddle that clung to her clothes. At least, then he would know what happened to her. At least then, he'd be able to do something. Wrap the body up in a blanket, close her eyes, tuck the little bear under her arm and lay her next to her father and mother. He had not expected to open the door to an empty apartment, full of mystery…The security camera footage was destroyed, or stolen. It was possible they'd never know what exactly happened.

Four children, two in his custody, one missing, one left…Thor's son.

"Agent Hill," he called, "Tell Thor that Loki is coming from him."

"I think he already knows, sir."

He nodded. Maybe they could save him. Three out of four, those odds wouldn't be too bad. Maybe they'd get lucky.

_(A/N Reviews welcomed. Hope you liked the second chapter. Third one on its way.)_


	3. Chapter 3

_(A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming. This chapter is told from Phoebe's perspective. The next one will be from a new character, so your patience shall be rewarded. Once again, I do not own the Avengers. Sadly. Enjoy!)_

It was cold. Phoebe drew the blanket closer to her, but it was thin. It was her favorite one, it had purple, yellow, red and blue stripes.

"JARVIS, its cold, adjust temperature five degrees."

The familiar calm robotic voice, that always wished her good morning when she woke up and good night before she fell asleep did not respond.

"JARVIS? JARVIS?"

It took a moment for her to remember that she had go to away with her daddy's friend. Her father had come into her room afterwards and assured her it was pretend, that they were practicing to make sure she'd be safe with her daddy's friend. He had hugged her and told her to be a good girl while he and mommy were away. Then his friend had come in. Her daddy had other friends, Uncle Bruce, was one, and then there was Uncle Steve…He was going to go meet them. That always meant he had to become Iron Man, and fight evil. It used to be when she was four, that another one of daddy's friends, Uncle Rhodey, would sometimes fight too but he had gotten badly injured and wasn't coming back. He was dead.

She hadn't recognized this friend, but he had been very nice to her, he talked a lot like her daddy's friend Thor, who was very tall and big but very friendly, and always smiling. This friend was different. None of the other friends ever fought with her daddy before, not ever. She figured she fell asleep and he must have bought her to his house and tucked her into bed. That had been nice of him.

Phoebe began to tie the blanket around her shoulders so it draped around her like a superhero cape. She was happy that she had her socks, the floor felt like ice. It stung the soles of her feet like needles.

The room was large, even bigger than her room at home, but it was empty, there wasn't much beside the bed, desk, a chair, and several bookshelves. She noticed, there wasn't a computer or any toys. There wasn't a carpet either. The floor was black and slippery. The only doors led to a closet, and to a hallway. The closet seemed to be full though.

She wandered out to the hallway, it was dark, only lit by moonlight, but with doors spread out evenly, like at school. One of them, she figured, had to lead to a bathroom, she had realized she had to pee.

There were four doors all together, including the one she had come from, she opened the next door, but it only led to a room that looked exactly like hers, same with the other two. That, she thought was odd, as the other bedrooms were empty, no one was in them.

She continued looking down hallways, in rooms, until she realized she was lost. All the halls looked the same, and she had taken so many twists and turns that she had no idea where she was. She was about to sit by the wall and wait when she heard footsteps, pattering down the hallway slowly.

"What are you doing up out of bed at this hour, little one?"

Phoebe turned, it was her dad's friend, his name was…Lucas, Logan, Lori…no definitely not Lori… was it. He looked tired, like he hadn't gone to sleep yet, but he bent down next to her, and ruffled her hair. She looked down at the floor, shyly, hoping he wouldn't get angry with her.

"What is wrong?"

"I have to go to the bathroom. I couldn't find it."

"Alright then, take my hand. I understand. It is quite easy to get lost. You shall grow used to it in time though."

She slipped her hand into his and followed him around the mazelike home. It was so big, it reminded her of a castle or palace. She looked around the house, eyes wide open, he noticed and laughed, "You like my home?"

"It's so big," Phoebe said, "Do you have a playroom?"

He laughed again, "Of course, I do, little one, a very large one. You will have it all to yourself tomorrow."

"All to myself?"

She started jumping, she was so excited.

"Yes, I have to run a few errands tomorrow, so I need you to be a good girl while I'm gone," he said, "Can you do that for me? Sit quietly in the playroom while I do my errands? There will be plenty of toys to entertain you."

Phoebe nodded. Of course she could. Hopefully there would be more than dolls to play with. Hopefully, he would have blocks or Legos or those sets where you could build things like mini Ferris Wheels. Those were fun. They stopped.

He bent down ,ruffled her hair again, and smiled, "Here's the bathroom."

Phoebe peed in the toilet, she knew he was waiting outside, and it made her feel odd, she hated people waiting outside the bathroom, when she was going. It made her pee slower. She tried to avoid going to the toilet at school, she hated how she had to hear the other girls as they tromped in and out of the bathroom, wasn't the bathroom supposed to be private? It just didn't feel right peeing in front of people.

She finished washing her hands and wiped them on her jeans. She hadn't noticed how torn up they had gotten. Her mommy was going to be angry with her when she came back.

He was still waiting for her outside the door.

"Better?"

She nodded. He smiled at her, "Well then, now that that is done, you need to go back to bed. Little girls should not be out of bed at this hour. They should be tucked away snug in their beds."

"But I'm not sleepy," she said, she half hoped that he'd take her to the playroom, to tire her out, like how her daddy always took her down to the workshop and let her help him with his projects until Mommy came down and told them to go to bed or they both fell asleep.

He gave her a look, the same look her mommy gave her whenever she caught her doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. Without asking, he lifted her up, she didn't know what to say. He also undid the blanket from around her shoulders and adjusted it wrapped around her like a cocoon.

He carried her all the way to the bedroom, and put her on the bed. She immediately pulled the blanket closer to her, so she could keep warm. The room was still very cold.

"What is wrong, little one?"

"I'm cold."

"Why did you not say anything? I will get you another blanket."

He went to the closet, and pulled out a huge, thick, cozy looking green blanket.

"Lie down," he said.

She did and he covered here with the blanket. It was soft and very warm like it had just come out of the dryer. She snuggled into it like she would do under her covers at home. She closed her eyes. The sooner she fell asleep, the sooner morning would come and the sooner she'd get to see her Daddy again. He couldn't be longer than a few days. If he was, she and mommy would always come along. That meant he had to come back soon. Besides he also promised to take her to the movies on Saturday. He couldn't break a promise.

_(A/N Reviews are welcomed, as always as well criticisms. I will try and post the next chapter by Friday!)_


	4. Chapter 4

_(A/N. Sorry this chapter took a little longer than expected. School got in the way and I made a lot of edits to this chapter. But it's finally here._ _This chapter is told from the perspective of Steve Roger's son, Steve Rogers Jr. nicknamed Stevie. Once again, I do not own the Avengers or related titles or such. However, as a reminder Phoebe, Stevie and Bryan (Banner) are all characters of my own creation.)_

Stevie woke up when he heard the footsteps, excited, he wriggled out of his bed, he figured it must be Director Fury back with Phoebe. Fury had told him and Bryan that he had to go and get her after dinner. He had found out that the same man who had killed his parents and Bryan's, had killed Phoebe's too. He started to cry when he heard this. He was scared that Phoebe would be hurt. He remembered when his home was attacked, he had been hurt. He had jumped on the man's back, trying to protect his mother who was lying on the floor bleeding.

"_DON'T HURT MY MOTHER!"_

_Stevie hit him, grabbed his hair, kicking him. He had merely laughed._

"_You stupid boy."_

_He had thrown him off his back and he tumbled onto the floor. He had gotten a lot of cuts and bruises from the falls. It hurt. He bled._

"_You stupid, little boy," he whispered as he stepped onto his back, "I could kill you easily. I could but I won't. I don't want to kill you. I want to help you. Would you want to with me? I can show you things that you could have never dreamed of on your own. You can have anything your heart desires. Anything at all. All you need to do is come with me. Come with me, Steven. Your dreams will come true." _

"_No."_

"_Get away from my son!"_

"_DAD!"_

_His father knocked the man over. He ran scared and covered his eyes. He heard screaming as his father was murdered and his mother screamed. Then she stopped. _

"_MOM! DAD!"_

_He came over to him and tousled his hair. He pushed the hand away._

"_They're gone, Steven. Come with me."_

_The man held out his hand. He refused and ran to his father and grabbed his shield and threw it. It missed. _

_But instead of throwing it back, the man picked it up and examined it. He grinned._

"_Put it down. That's my father's! It doesn't belong to you!"_

Stevie had been left alone. The man, Loki had left with his father's shield under his arm. Before he left he gave him a pat on the head. When he left, he had cried. He had tried to get his father to come back but he wouldn't. Same with his mother. But they were dead. And he had hid until Director Fury had come for him.

Sometimes it gave him bad dreams at night. But he hadn't told anyone. He didn't want to be weak. He was going to be the leader, leaders never got scared or ran or cry, no matter what. Just like his daddy.

He hurried out of his room, he couldn't wait to see her, but when got to the hallway Phoebe wasn't there. Director Fury looked like he'd been crying, and was holding a teddy bear. He remembered seeing it in her room a couple of times at Phoebe's home.

"Director, where's Phoebe?"

The Director turned, he seemed surprised to see him, "Stevie," he sighed, "Why are you up? It's nearly one in the morning."

"I heard footsteps. I wanted to see Phoebe. Where is she? Is she in the sick bay? Is she hurt?"

"Calm down, Stevie. I'll explain in the morning. Go back to bed for now. Okay?"

"But…"

"I will tell you and Bryan in the morning. For now, I just need you to go back to bed. Just go to bed. Okay?"

"Okay."

He trudged back to his bed. He sat on his bed, it squeaked.

"What's wrong, Stevie," Bryan asked sitting up and rubbing his eyes, "Is Fury back with Phoebe?"

They shared a room, the two of them. He had his own room when he lived with his mom and dad. He had had the room to himself, for a few days before Bryan came. Now it was the two of them. Fury said they were going have to share it with Phoebe and Gunnar when they both came. There wasn't enough room for each of them to have their own bedroom. It was small inside, with just enough space for the four beds plus a little nightstand next to each. He had complained about the size but had been told by Director Fury, "The sizes of bedrooms don't matter because you're only going to use it for sleeping. All you need for sleeping is a bed." He had accepted that.

"She wasn't with him. He said he'd tell us in the morning."

He pulled the blanket over himself. The bed squeaked again. He still wasn't used to the sound it made whenever he moved. Bryan stared at him.

"Do you think she's dead?"

Stevie shook his head. He couldn't believe Bryan would say something like that. Phoebe couldn't be dead. She just couldn't be.

"Don't say things like that. You can't say things like that, Bryan."

"Why?"

"She's our friend. You don't say things like that about friends. You don't say things like that about anyone. It's not right."

"It isn't," Bryan said quietly. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. Stevie hadn't realized he'd been upsetting him. He felt bad.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm fine," Bryan said. He took a drink of water and took another deep breath, "I'm okay right now."

Stevie nodded, and went silent for a minute thinking, "Bryan…Did he ask you anything? Like did he ask you to go with him?"

"Who? Loki?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. He did."

Bryan went really quiet. Stevie sighed. Bryan didn't like talking much, he knew that. It made him lonely though. Phoebe liked to talk. A lot. He was never lonely with her around. He liked how she would chatter away with him. He liked her voice.

"He asked me to go with him too. He told me I could have anything I wanted if I did. Do you think he told Phoebe the same thing, and she went with him?"

"I dunno."

Stevie turned over in his bed. He didn't really feel like sleeping now. His tummy was all knotted and he felt sick. He was worried, What if she was hurt, or scared? What if he had killed her? No. Phoebe had to be alive. She had to be okay. She had to be…otherwise how were they supposed to be the Avengers…They couldn't be without Phoebe. Or Gunnar. Two people couldn't be a team. They couldn't. That wasn't how things worked. It just wasn't.

_(A/N Hope you enjoyed it. Any and all reviews welcomed Next will be up in a few to everyone who has reviewed, followed or alerted me, thank you very much I highly appreciate it..)_


	5. Chapter 5

_(A/N Sorry this took so long. It's been an extremely busy week. However, with the holidays fast approaching, I will have more time to write fanfiction! To all those celebrating Hanukkah tonight, Happy Hanukkah! As a reminder, I do own the Avengers or any related titles or characters. However, Phoebe and Gunnar are characters of my own creation. To avoid confusion, this chapter is from Loki's POV.)_

"I have to go now, little one," Loki said, "I will be back in a few hours with a surprise."

"Okay," she said, "What kind of a surprise?"

"Well then, it would not be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

"Please? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

He gave a small laugh and ruffled her hair, "You will see, Phoebe, little one."

"I want to know, now!"

"Later."

The girl wriggled a little in excitement. He smiled and gently ruffled her hair so as not to mess up her hair. One of the servants had carefully pulled her hair into a tight braid. Now that she was cleaned up and in fresh clothes, she had actually begun to look like a proper trophy. She had been dressed in proper attire; a green dress, thick stockings and shiny black shoes. He had to admit the servant he assigned to dress her had impeccable taste.

"Can I play with those?" She pointed across the room at one of the toy shelves.

"You can play with whatever you wish."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course ,little one."

She ran across the room. He had made sure to fill the playroom with every toy, game and book that a Midgardian child could ever want. Such a change in her behavior from the previous day. Perhaps this would be easier than he had planned. There would be plenty to distract her until he returned with his "nephew." He had met the boy, Gunnar, before, when he was younger. It wouldn't be easy to convince the boy. He was only a couple years older than Phoebe. Of course, he was still a child, he need not be frightened that the boy would be able to beat him.

The soldier's son had refused his offers of gifts, of anything in the world. The boy saw through his tricks, and had tried to attack him. Even after he offered the boy help with his wounds, he had refused. And since he had another three children left, he had patted the boy's head and left but not before taking a trophy, the shield of the boy's father.

And then there was the Beast's son. He had been kind to the boy, calm. He offered to cure him. The boy had almost gone with him too, willingly. But the Beast himself, had interrupted them. The child had panicked and ran away, breathing hard trying to stop himself. The Beast turned and tried to grab him by the ankle and smash him against the floor like he had done that first time. But he had beat him to it. A quick jab of strong sedatives had taken him down.. And his trophy there, had been the Beast's head. He left the boy, fearing for his own safety, as he had no way of defending against a second beast.

The girl, might end up being his only trophy. He could have done worse. After all, trophies were meant to be displayed, and he could have done much worse than a pretty, sweet, little six year old girl. She wasn't the most powerful of the children, but she certainly must be the most intelligent if she was Stark's daughter. Hopefully, she did have her father's talents, it could prove to be very useful to him. Very. Even if she didn't, she could still be of use.

She was completely entranced in her task, she had dumped out a huge container of small, colored blocks and had busied herself putting them together, not paying attention to anything else.

It was a pity there were no other children. Clint Baron and Romanov or as they were better known Hawkeye and the Black Widow, had married but never had children. He had figured the two would end up together. He had killed them first. It had been easier than he thought it would be. Both them were unprepared, half asleep in their bed. He had dragged Agent Romanov out of the had clawed at him, punched him, kicked him, but she was no match, the stupid, pathetic quim. He had enjoyed watching her die. Baron was dispatched just easy, if not easier. Their weapons had lay untouched in the closet. They were his first prizes.

He left Phoebe in the playroom. He doubted she noticed he was gone. Two guards stood at the door. He turned to them.

"She is to eat lunch at noon and then sent to her room for a nap. After that she can return here until dinner. If she does get hungry between meals, give her a snack. I should be back after she eats supper. I want one of the other bedrooms prepared before I arrive with nephew. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my king," one of the guards quickly bowed. His eyes darter around and Loki could see him trying to remember his instructions.

"Just tend to the girl's needs."

"Of course, my lord."

Loki smiled to himself. And Thor said he was ill-suited to throne. He laughed to , then it was about time he visited his brother wasn't it? The coward was hiding, and had not done anything to stop his rule. He hadn't even challenged him! That was one reason it had been so easy to take over Midgard this time.

His "third" attempt technically. The first time in New Mexico, the second his destruction of New York City and this third one, it had taken him several quiet years to place followers in governments, and then a final takeover of several large cities. After that, all he had needed to do was take down the only people standing in his way. And now that job was nearly done. He didn't consider S.H.I.E.L.D. a threat. Not anymore. He was above them.

_(A/N Probably not my best work…but still reviews are more than welcomed.)_


	6. Chapter 6

_(A/N. A little hump day treat. I got this chapter done early. The story should pick up a bit soon. I'm trying to cover as much as I can. I'm sorry if anyone is getting tired and wants more plot. It will come. Patience. Once again, I own nothing Avengers related. Unfortunately. Phoebe, Stevie, Bryan and Gunnar are all mine though. This chapter shall be told from Agent Maria Hill's P.O.V.)_

"That bastard. That fucking bastard. Where did he take them?" Fury muttered. Maria Hill shrugged. She was exhausted. Fury was exhausted. The remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were exhausted and the boys were exhausted. In the past days they had lost not just Tony Stark, but Thor as well. They had just found out hours ago.

It had only taken a month, thirty measly days for them to lose every single member of the Avengers Initiative. Thirty days. And how many years would it take to replace them? Stevie was eight and Bryan was just a little over six. Besides training, the boys needed basic educations. They needed attention and caring. They needed families. That was one thing she was sure not many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents including her could provide. They could provide them with books, and people to teach them but not much else. If they had gotten to Phoebe and Gunnar in time as well…maybe she'd feel better, knowing they would have a full team when the time came…and that they had kept their promise to keep the kids safe.

Fury had been harping over that Loki had taken Phoebe and Gunnar. She didn't blame him. She was concerned too. It didn't surprise Maria, but she had never before seen Fury act this way. She had never seen him so unsure and so confused on what to do.

"What does he want with them? What does he want," he was still muttering to no one in particular but she felt the need to answer.

"I don't know sir. I'm sorry, but I don't know. I wish I did."

He looked up, and shook his head as though he were trying to get his head out of the cloud it had been in. He had bags under his good eye, as he hadn't slept in a few days. It was as though at any moment he'd collapse due to exhaustion. She knew she looked the same, if not worse.

"I remember what Stark said once, about Loki, how he was a drama queen and would want parades and flowers in his honor…Do you remember that, Hill?" There was a sense of urgency in his voice.

"I'm not quite sure where you're going with this, Director. Loki likes to show off…We know that. It's pretty damn obvious to anyone who has met him for five minutes. Wait," she said, "He'd want to remember his victory wouldn't he? Wasn't Stark's arc reactor missing? And the Captain's shield? What if he took them?"

"That makes sense, Hill. It would explain why we couldn't find any arrows or boys or guns at Baron and Romanoff's place. It would…It would explain why we couldn't find the Hulk's…head either. It would explain a lot."

She nodded, "It would. But something still bothers me…"

"The team's biggest fear once they had children was that they wouldn't be able to protect them. Loki would have known that. He would have used that against them. He may have killed them," Fury sighed, "He could have taken them and killed them." Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked as though he were about to cry.

Hill was silent for a moment then shook her head, "If he had wanted to kill them, he would have done so, there, and he probably considered taking the others. More than likely he tried but failed. But why exactly would he want them?"

"Gunnar's understandable."

She nodded, yes; at least they could understand why he took Gunnar, the son of his brother, the brother who overshadowed him. If she had been his position, the child of the sibling that always overshadowed her, and she had the opportunity to control her niece or nephew, she might have done the same thing. Maybe. But why Phoebe? Such a little girl, unlike the others there really wasn't any way for her to fight back… she stopped, the immediate thought was too horrible to continue thinking about.

"You're thinking about something. What is it?" Fury stared her down.

"Nothing, sir" she stammered.

"You were thinking about what he would do with them. To Phoebe and Gunnar."

It was freaky how he could do that. She still hadn't gotten used to it even after all these years of working for him, "Yes, sir, I was."

He looked down, "That he uses them against us. That he brainwashes them or keeps them as prisoners." He said the reasons as though he was reading her the day's tasks or a grocery list, without any emotion.

"Not only that sir…"

He was just avoiding saying it, she knew, but she wanted him to say just so she sure she wasn't the only one thinking it. She needed to know.

"I understand that you're worried about Stark's kid, Agent Hill. I get it."

She snapped at him, something she had never done before, "She's a six year old girl, who is probably scared out of her mind right now stuck all alone in some little prison cell wondering why her daddy isn't coming to rescue her." She almost broke down crying after the words finished spit-firing from her mouth.

Fury put both of his hands firmly on her shoulders and sat her down on the chair. His voice was very calm, "I know. I know, Hill. We all know what he's capable of doing," he said, "And he knows exactly how to take a shit on Stark's grave. Phoebe was Tony's pride and joy. Loki knew that. I don't even want to think about what he might have said to him or what he may be doing to Phoebe. But thinking about it won't help her. Worrying about it won't help either. Saving her will. You need to keep yourself together. Otherwise there's no hope of getting either of them back. Either Gunnar or Phoebe. We'll either get them back ourselves or we'll wait until Stevie and Bryan are ready. But we will get them back. We will. Now, go get some rest. I'll finish up."

"Uh, sir?"

"That's an order, Hill. Go to bed. Get some rest before the boys' training in the morning."

She nodded, "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Maria."

It wasn't until later that she noticed what he called her. She went off to her room, first stopping to check on the boys. The two were fast asleep, curled up on their beds. At least they got to them in time. They looked so peaceful. She brushed Stevie's hair away from his face. She tucked Bryan's stuffed toy dinosaur back under his arm. He hugged it close. Then she stared at the two empty cots that weren't made. The blankets lay neat and folded with the pillows on top waiting and ready to be used. She sighed then turned out the light and left.

Maria Hill collapsed on her bed; she was so exhausted that the hard army-surplus pillow and scratchy blanket felt comfortable. And for once she didn't notice the squeak of the cot whenever she moved. But still, even her bunk on the Helicarrier had been better. She had a small apartment, but she rarely used it. She wasn't sure what had happened to it. Probably looted by now. Not that it mattered. She kicked off her shoes, and let them lie next to the bed. She pulled up the blanket, deciding that it would be pointless to change.

She was asleep within minutes.


	7. Chapter 7

_(A/N: Second chapter this week! Hope you enjoy it. It is told from Gunnar's POV. Once again, I own nothing, blah, blah, blah. Phoebe, Gunnar, Stevie and Bryan are my won…blah..blah..blah. But I'd like to thank Guineamania, who has taken the time to comment on every chapter so far. You're awesome. I'd also like to thank Magic of Every Kind, who will be helping me with a second Avengers fic, which will be up in a couple weeks time. Reviews and comments welcome.)_

Gunnar Thorsson felt drowsy but held on to his uncle's hand as they walked around the house. His whole body ached and begged to go to bed. His mind was foggy and he could not think straight. His uncle led him through long, labyrinth like hallways. They twisted and turned like serpents. It was different than his home on Asgard. This home had darker walls, made of wood, with gold painting near the floor and ceiling. Statues, paintings and flowers lined the hallways. It felt odd being there, like trying on new clothes made out of a new material or that were the wrong size. His uncle kept talking in soft, calm voice much like how his own father would comfort him after a nightmare, something he would never do again.

His father, the mighty Thor, had fallen in battle. He did not know against whom. He had not seen it. He had not fought, he was too young, only eight years old. His father had hidden him away before the attack, in a small room that he had never been in before. He told him to stay there until help came.

"Gunnar, my son, look at me," he had said, "This battle may very well be my last. If I do not make it I want you to remember me . Remember this as well; be brave, be strong, protect those who cannot protect themselves. You are of Asgard and this is an important duty of yours. And that no matter what, you are my son and I will always love you." His father had kissed him on the head and left him alone.

Then his father died, gloriously, so said his uncle. He recognized him from his father's stories. His uncle had come over to him, embraced him and let him cry into his shoulder. For some reason, the minute his uncle had come, he realized his father had passed into Valhalla, the warrior's heaven.

"I managed to rescue one of your friends, as well."

He looked up at his uncle, "Who?"

His uncle smiled, at him, and tousled his hair, "Phoebe. Phoebe is your friend, right?"

"Yes, Uncle. She is."

"She is in the other room. Do you want to see her?"

He nodded. Despite his tired body, he wanted to see a familiar face, a friend. His uncle led him to a huge room that did not look like it belonged in the palace. It was large, and was painted the color of the sky. The floor was not tile or stone but was rather soft and had huge windows where moonlight shone through and was filled with shelves and boxes of toys and books. Phoebe sat on the floor, busy constructing something out of different-sized bits of metal. It was huge. Gunnar could not tell what it was, though. His father had often told him that although Phoebe and her father did not have a large command of strength, they had minds and hands that could create wonderful contraptions.

His uncle bent down next to her, and put his hand around her shoulder trying to get her attention, "Phoebe. Phoebe. Little one."

"You're back."

"Yes, and look what I bought."

"Gunnar!"

She turned and she ran up to Gunnar and hugged him. He put his arms around her. He had not seen her in many months and was happy to see she had not changed very much. He then took her hand in his own, and gently kissed it like his father had taught him to do.

"It is good to see you again, Phoebe."

She hugged him again tighter, "I missed you."

"I missed you as well."

His uncle had told him that her father had gone away to fight, fight the same evil man who had killed his father, so he had taken her in but her father, had died in battle as well. He had received the information that morning but had not told Phoebe yet. He thought she should have some time to recover before she found out.

Gunnar sat next to her the rest of the evening, watching her build. He wanted to be sure, she was alright. His uncle had left the room to tend to affairs, she hadn't noticed. His stomach growled. He had not eaten since noon, and was very hungry.

His uncle had told him, that he would be their guardian, now that their parents were gone. He would raise them, feed them, educate them. He'd promised him that he would teach him sorcery and politics. He longed to be a warrior, he would much rather fight with weapons than learn magic. Yet, he was curious and agreed. Phoebe would be educated based on her talents, and would be raised to be a princess.

Gunnar had also been told that their two friends, Stevie and Bryan had been taken by the evil people, that they might not still be alive. That had made Gunnar nervous, he had come so close to death, two of his friends were gone and the other was currently ignorant of their situation. He did notwant her to know, not now at least, he didn't want her hurting. He wanted to protect her. Now that they were being raised together, she was his sister. And since he was now her elder brother, it was his duty to protect her from all harm.

"Want to play Candyland?"

"There is a land made of candy? How would we get there? Uncle says we cannot leave."

"No, silly, this is Candyland." She went up to one of the shelves and pulled down a box, "It's a game. Do you want to play?"

"Yes."

They began to play. It was an easy game.

"Where are Bryan and Stevie?"

"I do not know," he said, "But I am sure they are alright." It felt terrible to lie.

"Good."

"Do not worry. Uncle will protect us both no matter what. He promised me."

"Okay."

While they played, his mind wandered to what his uncle had said, he had told Gunnar that he would explain everything to Phoebe tomorrow, because she was younger and not as mature, he had not explained everything to her right away. That made some sense, Phoebe was six years old, and he was eight. It made him happy that his uncle thought he was mature. Maybe it wouldn't be bad living with his uncle, all though he missed his home and his family and his friends. He was alive, though. He was not hurt and he had Phoebe. He had to protect her. His father had told him to.


	8. Chapter 8

_(A/N: First off, congrats for surviving the apocalypse! Good job, everyone! Secondly, I'd like to apologize for any delay. It was a busy week in school. But now I'm on break for two weeks and now I have plenty of time for fanfiction. Once again…I own nothing Avengers related…still. How disappointing. You know who I own, I assume, from reading previous chapter. Thanks for those who are following my story, you are awesome. Hope you enjoy this new chapter from Bryan's point of view..)_

Bryan sat up in his bed. He was supposed to be asleep. But,the Director and Agent Hill had been up late talking. Again. They had done this every single night for a while now. They were worried about Phoebe and Gunnar. They had been missing for a week. They weren't going to be coming back. That he knew. Stevie knew it too. They had told them that Phoebe and Gunnar had been taken by the same man who had killed their parents and they were going to have to train extra hard so they could rescue them. That's why they didn't go to school anymore. They had to train as much as possible. They still had lessons like reading and math though. But no homework. That part was nice.

He turned over in his bed trying to find a comfortable position. Even though he had two mattresses now, his bed still wasn't comfy. He had two because, the Director and Agent Hill had given him and Stevie the mattresses from Phoebe and Gunnar's beds. They also moved the beds out of the room. They said when Phoebe and Gunnar came back, they would put the beds back in. He hoped so. He liked having them in the room. It made him think that they might come back. Like how his daddy never slept on the right side of the bed because that's where his mommy used to sleep before she died. She was never coming back. He thought they should leave out the things for Phoebe and Gunnar because they might actually come back.

"Any news, Director?"

"No not yet, Hill."

Bryan started to sink down back into the bed but continued to listen/

"Damn. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive."

"Great…"

"What did you expect? We don't even have 10% of the people we had a year ago, we have even less resources. We don't even know where Loki's base is."

How didn't they know, he thought. They should know. They're the good guys, and on TV the good guys could always figure these things out. It didn't make sense.

"I know that, Director."

"Are you alright, Hill? If you can't handle…"

"I can handle this. I know I can."

"Alright, Hill. I trust your judgment."

"Thank you, sir."

Bryan stopped listening. He pulled the pillow over his head and covered his ears. He started humming softly. It was one of the exercises his dad had taught him to calm himself down. It stopped him from worrying and then panicking and having his "playmate" come "playmate" had been trying to come out a lot. The Director always put him in his "special room" when he felt it coming out. It scared him, how he couldn't control himself. It always happened when he became too angry, too sad or sometimes too nervous.

He'd turn large, his skin would turn green and he'd destroy everything. His daddy had the same problem but was able to control himself. He promised him that he'd teach him how to control himself. But he couldn't any more. He was gone. Bryan missed him a lot. But he wasn't coming back. Same with Stevie's dad and Phoebe's dad and Bryan's dad. They were all gone and not coming back.

What if Phoebe and Gunnar weren't going to come back? Stevie had been upset when he'd bought it up. He didn't know why. He was only trying to be honest. It was possible that they were gone, wasn't it? But he didn't want them to be dead. Phoebe was his best friend. He used to see her all the time. And Gunnar was his friend as well, even if they didn't see each other a lot. He was one of the few people who didn't tease him. Same with Phoebe and Stevie. They didn't tease him either.

He got teased at his school. The boys called him a "sissy" and "weakling" and "freak" and "nerd" because he didn't play sports. He didn't play sports because it got him riled up and he couldn't have an incident in school. It would have been bad if he did. His daddy had told the school that he had asthma, and that's why he wasn't allowed to do as much as other kids. So during recess, most days he read a book or played pretend with Stevie or Phoebe. He still had to go to gym class though. He hated it. He always got chosen last for teams and the teacher would yell at him. That part of school he didn't miss.

He missed his teacher though. She was nice. But he and Stevie couldn't go to school because if they did, Loki, the bad guy might find them and hurt them. And now he and Stevie were being taught by an older man who was one of the good guys and used to be a college teacher. He was okay but he liked his old teacher better.

The door opened. Bryan quickly stopped humming and took the pillow off his head and pretended that he was asleep. The Director or Agent Hill always checked on them after they finished talking. Most of the time, it was Hill, the Director always seemed to stay up working.

"Good night, little guy," the director whispered and gave his hair a quick tousle.

He secretly wished it was Agent Hill. She always gave both of them a quick goodnight kiss on the forehead before she left. He didn't know why she did it, but he liked it. His dad always would give him a goodnight kiss before bed. His dad always told him, if his mom were alive she'd kiss him good night as well and tell him a story. He told him she would also tell "I love you every night," just like he did.

The Director left the room. Bryan gave Peter two kisses. His daddy would give Peter a kiss too, so he had to give Peter an extra one.

"Good night, Peter," he whispered, "I love you."

He wished Peter could respond. He wanted someone to tell him that they loved him. He missed that most of all.

(_A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcomed, loved and appreciated!)_


	9. Chapter 9

_(A/N: This was one of the hardest chapters yet, I really hope you guys enjoy it. It took forever to get the right tone. And to answer guineamania's question: Gunnar and Stevie are both eight years old. Gunnar is older than Stevie. Phoebe and Bryan are both six. Phoebe is a couple months older than Bryan. Once again, I own nothing. You know I own the kids. Merry Christmas, and enjoy! This chapter is from Phoebe's point of view, and despite how much I love her…she's pretty tough to write!)_

Phoebe shivered in her nightgown. Her daddy's friend, Mr. Loki's, home was always very cold especially at night. She shuffled into the room, her slippers making little scuffling noises with each step. She had been in his house for about a week. He told her as long her daddy was away he would take care of her and Gunnar. She liked Gunnar; he always played whatever game she wanted to and would help her build. Her daddy's friend, who was Gunnar's uncle wasn't around a lot. He was very busy with his job. She wasn't sure what he did but she wished he'd stay and play a game with them or something like that. But he would sit down to breakfast and dinner with them and tell a little story and tuck her in but it wasn't the same. His stories were all ones she never heard and she didn't like his good night kisses. And she had been having bad dreams a lot too.

She wanted to go home and sleep in her bed at home, with all her stuffed animals and action figures, especially her teddy bear, Anthony. She liked the name Anthony. It was her daddy's name, though everyone called him Tony. It was like how Stevie's real name was Stephen. Anthony was also her middle name. Some people thought it was weird, but she liked it. Maybe she could ask Mr. Loki if he could stop by her home and get him for her. Anthony helped her get to sleep, if she had him, maybe she would stop having nightmares. She almost never had nightmares when she had Anthony.

She walked into his bedroom. It was even bigger than hers. It had the same black, slippery floors though and he had shelves that were filled with books. There was a lot of interesting things as well; she didn't know what most of them were. She tiptoed up to the bed. She stared at him for a couple of moments trying to see if he was awake or not. She quietly shook his shoulder, like she always did with her daddy. He turned over in the bed.

"What is it, little one?"

"I had a bad dream," she whispered, "Can I stay with you? Please?"

"No, little one not tonight. Remember what I said last night?"

Phoebe shook her head, "No." Truth was she did remember. But she hoped he'd let her stay with him anyway.

"I told you that it would be the last night. This is the fourth time this week that you have asked and you must learn to sleep on your own," he leaned over and ruffled her hair, "You, must go back to your room and sleep there."

"Please? One more time. I won't ask again. Promise."

"No. You must get over your fears."

It was true that she had a lot of nightmares, and had asked if she could stay with him but didn't see anything wrong with staying with him. Her parents would come and get her soon, and then she'd go home to Stark Tower.

"Why? Won't my mommy and daddy be back soon anyway…They're coming back to get me soon, right?"

He sighed, "Sit here, little one." He sat up and patted the spot next to him on the bed. She climbed up. He put one of the blankets around her shoulders and put his arm around her, "I need to tell you something important, little one."

Her tummy suddenly felt tight. It was that type of feeling she got whenever she was called down to the principal's office. She didn't like it.

"What's wrong?" Had she done something bad? Was she in trouble?

"It is about your parents. I just received the news this morning. I was waiting until the proper time… I am very sorry, my little one. They are not ever going to come back. The bad men found your parents. They are dead. I am very sorry, my little one."

"Dead?"

He nodded, "You understand what dead means, child? Little one? Little one?"

She knew what dead meant. She used to have a fish, his name was Fishy, and one day it floated to the top of the tank, belly up. Her dad explained that Fishy had died. He explained what dead meant, that you basically went into a sleep and never woke up. If you were dead you couldn't eat, drink, play, talk or go to school. You couldn't do anything anymore because your body wouldn't work. It made her sad to think about it.

He also told her that everyone died, eventually but he and her mommy wouldn't die for a long time. He lied to her….He said he would be back. He promised. Her daddy never broke promises.

"Little one…you did not answer me. Do you understand?" He shook her shoulder gently.

She found herself shaking her head. She didn't understand how her daddy could be dead.

"It means…little one, that they are gone. They cannot come back from where they are. However, they did love you, very much. I am sorry."

"They're gone?"

"Yes."

"Forever?"

"Yes."

Gone. Her mommy and her daddy were gone. Gone.

"Will I ever get to see them again?"

"Not for a very long time, my little one. Not for a very long time," He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head. It was different from his goodnight kisses. It was gentler, softer, more like her daddy's, "Shhhh…shhhhh…shhhh…My little one…my little one." She held on to him and laid her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beat. She was afraid if she let go he wouldn't come back, then she'd really be all alone, "I know you miss them, I know. I understand, little one. They loved you very much. They loved you very much. But do not worry; I will take care of you, now. I promise."

How long was a very long time? That was the same thing her daddy had said. Maybe it wasn't that long at all. Maybe it would only mean next week or next month. That wasn't long…Right?

"Can…can…can…I?"

"I suppose," He said, pushing hair back from her face and then wiping at her face with a tissue, "But, tonight must be the last night. Alright, my little one? You can stay with me one more night."

She nodded and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

He smiled again, "Should we get you a cup of hot cocoa? That will help you get to sleep."

She shook her head and buried her face into his shirt. It smelled fresh, like the night before a snow storm. She clutched onto it. She was afraid if he left he wouldn't come back and she'd never see him ever again. She didn't want him to go away too. Then she would be really alone. She hated being alone…But he promised, he told her he'd take care of her until her parents came back, so that meant he would always take of her. He had to. He promised. He promised. He couldn't break a promise.

_(A/N: So good, bad, a not needed chapter? I really would appreciate any reviews. Please as a Christmas gift?)_


	10. Chapter 10

_(A/N: Holy….Is this my tenth chapter already? one was actually pretty easy compared to the last couple. Nick Fury is surprisingly easy to write for I'm. trying to get as many chapters done during my vacation as I can. I don't know what school will be like when I get back. But I have no plans to stop anytime soon. Thanks to all my readers and guys are awesome and I love you. As you know, I own nothing. I am not Stan Lee or Joss Whedon or any owner or creator of Marvel or the Avengers or related titles. At least… not yet. I own Phoebe, Bryan, Stevie and Gunnar and that is all. Enjoy!)_

Nick Fury threw the can underneath the sink. The soup was already beginning to bubble up on the stove. Making lunch for two elementary-schoolers was the last thing he ever thought he would be doing at a time like this. Yet, these two boys were the only thing that could save the human race from Loki's rule. The world was currently counting on two kids who can't even do multiplication tables yet to save them. How pathetic was that?

He looked back to the stove. The soup was ready. He quickly poured it into two bowls and bought them into the small dining area.

"Soup's on," he said.

Fury put down two bowls on the table; one in front Stevie and one in front of Bryan. Neither of them seemed like they wanted to eat. Bryan dipped his spoon into the soup and turned it upside down to watch it drip back into the bowl. Stevie pushed his bowl away from himself, "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat it whether you're hungry not Stevie. You need to keep your strength up," he said. The boys continued to stare. He sighed, "After this, Stevie, you're going to work on some self defense tactics. Bryan, you will work with the Doc on some relaxation and calming techniques. Okay?"

"Yes, Director," Stevie said.

"Okay," Bryan said and hugged his toy.

Bryan always carried that damn thing around with him. He had been clutching it when they found him. Even as he lay unconscious, knocked out by the sedative, he still gripped the dinosaur. Now, Bryan was even more attached to it. He wouldn't let anyone else even touch it. That, they learned after the Doc, an expert in psychology and there to teach Bryan control, told him he needed to give up the toy for a few minutes to do an exercise. The Doc had tried grabbing it away. The ending result hadn't been pretty. Luckily, no one had been hurt. But ever since then nobody touched the dinosaur.

The boys ate their food in silence. Fury didn't eat anything himself. He was responsible for these kids and he was going to make sure they ate, even if it meant he had to go without a meal or two. He had been through worse. If all that was standing between him and defeating Loki was a few skipped meals, so be it. He could probably stand to lose a couple of pounds anyway. He sat watching the boys eat. Could he do it? Could he take care of these boys?

It wouldn't be easy to raise the boys and educate them. It wouldn't be easy to train the boys how to fight and defend and protect. It wouldn't be easy guaranteeing they would always have food or that they would always be safe.

It wouldn't be hard to find them, if Loki cared enough to find them. If Loki had the resources to take over every government, he wouldn't have any trouble finding a couple dozen people hiding out on the outskirts of New York City. None. Then what? What would happen to them, to Bryan and Stevie? Bryan would no doubt be killed the first chance Loki had. If he could kill a full-grown Hulk, he could easily kill Bryan. Stevie would probably suffer the same fate as Phoebe and Gunnar and that probably meant being locked away in a prison cell or tortured or brainwashed or something as equally horrible.

He couldn't let Loki take them. Not without a fight…Not without a goddamn fight. He had to let them grow up, get strong, prepare them…What the hell qualified him to look after kids? He didn't know anything about raising kids…

But that had been the plan, that had been his plan; raise the children, all of them, to take their parents' places as the next generation of Avengers and defeat Loki. Hell…Even before Loki took over, Fury had been helping prepare the Avengers 2.0 Initiative. The take-over had only put into production quicker. He remembered all of them staring at him when he told them the plan. First disbelief, then a mournful nod as the message hit them. They had all reacted differently.

Thor had no problem. After all, his son was going to grow up to fight either way. Thor was the first of the group to have a kid. He had been ecstatic. Thor still had affection for his brother though. He still had hope that his brother may see the light and join them as an ally. Some good that had done him in the end. Thor's death was probably the most painful. He was glad that was a scene he didn't see.

Steve hadn't liked the idea of his son becoming a soldier, especially at such a young age. He wanted his boy to have a normal life. It had taken Fury a good long time to explain to him the Avengers 2.0 Initiative, that it was a way to train the kids, and if need be protect them and raise them as well. Fury had told him that if he rejected their offer, there really wasn't anything they could do to protect Stevie so if he died. So if Loki kidnapped Stevie they would be under no obligation to save the boy. That's what made Steve agree. Fury didn't feel guilty about lying to him about it. It had to be done. He needed "permission" because Stevie was a minor. Even if he hadn't gotten it, he would have gotten Stevie. They wouldn't have Loki take any of the kids. They weren't supposed to let him…

Tony had been apprehensive to say the least. . He was very protective of Phoebe, and had doted on the girl. He had even been making a suit for her for her birthday. It didn't have any weapons. It would just help her fly. He didn't want her fighting or getting hurt. But he had accepted the offer without thinking. It had surprised him. But, it was under one condition: that he not treat Phoebe any differently because she was the only girl. Stark did always need to get the last word in.

Bruce had silently given his permission with nod of the head. He had probably been thinking about it for a long time. Bryan was his life. When his girlfriend got pregnant, Banner had gotten scared. He knew that his son would be born with "another guy." Fury knew that abortion had been a serious option for the two but they decided to have the baby anyway. Banner had even kept him after his girlfriend died in childbirth. He had raised the boy as best he could.

Natasha and Clint were lucky, in a way, that they didn't have kids; they didn't have to go through the same pain. Both of them, as it turned out, were infertile. Neither wanted kids anyway. S.H.I.E.L.D. was their lives.

Same with him. Fury hadn't had time for any relationships or family. He hadn't had a girlfriend since he started working at S.H.I.E.L.D. He hadn't seen or spoken to his family in a long time. He didn't even know if they were still alive. Not that it mattered. He had never gotten along with any of them. And finding them, now, would only put them in danger. Loki didn't need anything else to hold over his head and bait him with.

"I'm done."

"Me too."

"Alright. Clean up and then we can get back to training."

They nodded and started clearing the table. Fury smiled to himself. He had just figured out what the biggest difference was between the teams.

(_A/N: So…Am I getting Nick Fury's personality or is too…sentimental? Another, should the chapters be longer or shorter or stay the same…Please read and review. Thanks!)_


	11. Chapter 11

_(A/N- Happy New Year, my dear readers. I apologize that this chapter took much longer than expected. I had writer's block. This chapter is still not as good as I wanted it to be but I told myself I would post it today because otherwise it would never get finished. Okay. What next? The usual, 'I own nothing' disclaimer. You people who have been reading know who I have created. And this chapter will be from Gunnar's POV.)_

Gunnar sat in his room. It was much too early in the morning to be up, but he was having trouble sleeping. He felt homesick. He missed his father and mother. He missed his grandmother and grandfather. He missed his bedroom. He missed everything about Asgard...He wanted more than anything to go back. Asgard was his home.

It was not his home anymore. His uncle's home was now his home as well. Gunnar just wished his new room was more like his one on Asgard. His room on Asgard had a glass ceiling that allowed him to stare at the stars. He would watch them for hours until he fell asleep. This ceiling was blank, nothing to look at. There were windows, but they were hardly wide enough to watch the stars or even see the sun rise. If he could, he would watch the stars in the playroom because it has such wide windows, but Uncle made Phoebe and him go to bed at sunset. He was allowed to stay up for an hour or so afterwards, reading by candlelight while his uncle tucked Phoebe into bed.

There weren't any other people in the palace besides his uncle, Phoebe and the servants. There wasn't anyone to play with. No Stevie, no Bryan…They were gone, taken by the same people who murdered his father. The same ones who also murdered Phoebe's father. They could have hurt her. If he ever found them…He curled his hand into a fist and punched the pillow. He wanted to cry. But he did not. Princes were not supposed to cry.

"Is everything alright Gunnar?"

His uncle entered the room. He was already dressed. Gunnar had yet to see him wearing his night clothes or anything less than the finest clothing; leathers, armors, furs and cloths. He had a whole closet full of them now at his uncle's insistence. He did not mind, they reminded him of home. His uncle told him if he had not saved him he could be dressing in rags.

"Yes, Uncle, I am alright.

"You seem upset, my nephew."

He shook his head, "No, I am fine."

"Are you sure? Is something troubling you?"

Gunnar sighed, "No."

His uncle looked surprised, "Are you sure?"

"Yes..." That was not the truth. But still. He wanted a friend with whom he could wrestle with, fight with...A boy. He felt restless. His uncle would not let them outside the playroom during the day, and he was bored. He hated being inside all day.

"Gunnar," his uncle said sternly as though he could tell he was lying.

"It is just that…I miss Stevie and Bryan." He winced hoping that his uncle would not yell at him for seeming weak. His father would not, but he still did not know his uncle well enough to know how he would react.

His uncle tousled his hair and gave him a small smile, "I know my nephew. They were your friends after all. It is natural for you to miss them miss them."

Gunnar nodded not knowing what else to say or do. He was happy that his uncle had not yelled at him and had even said that his reaction was alright. But one thing bothered him… He fell silent for a moment. The way his uncle phrased last sentence made it sound like they were gone forever, "Are they…"

"I know not, nephew. I am afraid they might be. They were captured by the Rebellion, after all. They are not above harming children. However, it is something you should not concern with. You are much too young to worry about it. It will give you nightmares. Phoebe has been suffering from them ever since she arrived. I do not need a second one suffering from them."

Gunnar nodded again. He knew Phoebe had nightmares. A couple of nights she had wandered into his bedroom and asked to stay with him because she was frightened and lonely. He let her even though he knew his uncle would get angry with him, "I know, she has told me."

"She has? That is good. Have you had any nightmares, Gunnar?"

He shook his head.

"My nephew, I do hope you are telling the truth. I know I am not your father but I would be very disappointed if you were lying especially since I will be raising you and Phoebe as my own children you should know that I do not tolerate lying. You are not lying to me, are you?"

He shook his head. He had never lied. If there was one thing his father valued it had been honesty.

"Good. Now, go ask one of the servants to run you a bath. Be down to breakfast in one hour."

Once his uncle was gone, Gunnar flopped onto his stomach. He did not feel taking a bath, but started wandering towards the bathroom anyway. He grabbed a set of clothes from his closet not bothering to at what he chose. He did not care much for appearances. It did not matter if he was not going to be able to leave the playroom all day.

He shuffled down the hall and into the bathroom.

"Prince Gunnar, do you wish for me to run you a bath?"

"Yes. I do. Thank you."

The servant went off.

He was not sure where his uncle had managed to hire so many servants or why he chose to live on Midgard. But it did not seem proper to question him; it would make him seem ungrateful.

"The bath will be ready in a few moments. I apologize, but young Lady Phoebe had bathed before you and we just need to refill the tub."

"Alright."

Phoebe was up early. She must have had another nightmare. That would be the only reason she would be up so early in the morning. He remembered one time he had stayed over her home for an evening along with Stevie and Bryan. It had been a lot of fun. But what he really remembered was the next morning when they had all tried waking her up for breakfast. It had taken them nearly an hour. But eventually they had woke her up. He smiled to himself. It was one of his favorite memories.

He had to put it behind him. You could not do anything to change the past, no matter how hard you tried. You had to accept it for what it was. Yes. His friends were most likely dead and if they were not now, they would be soon. And he could do nothing to bring them back. Once someone died they could not come back. He swallowed back tears. He could not cry. He could not. Princes did not cry.

"Young prince, your bath is ready."

He got up from his seat and followed the servant to the bath.

_(Thanks for reading. Please read and review. Anything you liked, didn't like, absolutely hated, loved, or felt did not fit?)_


	12. Chapter 12

_(A/N: Another day, another chapter. And to answer some questions. Kennedy, this story is far from over. I can't promise a sequel but I like the idea. Just let me finish this first. I-love-tea- and-coffee, there will be time skips. That's right. Multiple. And for TinaFrostDahMuffinburger, It's called Avengers 2.0 (as in two point oh) because I thought it sounded cool. Thanks to everyone who has taken their time to review my story. I really appreciate it. And now, *DISCLAIMER SAYS I OWN NOTHING.* This chapter is a little different from the others, but will be told from Agent Maria Hill's POV. Enjoy, my friends! )_

Agent Hill couldn't get last night's dream out of her head. Normally, she wasn't bothered by nightmares. It was one of the many things she had become accustomed to over the years, but last night's dream had been different. Maybe it was because she had no control over the events, and she had just simply been a spectator. Maybe it was the realism of the dream. Maybe, it was because she thought she was over nightmares. It didn't matter. She had to get over it. She had more important things to worry about but it still niggled in the back of her brain and she had the feeling that it would be there for months…

It had begun with Phoebe sitting in a small room, hugging her knees, on a urine-soaked mattress. She looked as though she hadn't eaten, slept or bathed in days. There was a large bruise on one side of her face and her lip was cut and bloody, as though someone had hit her. She was sobbing quietly, wiping her face with the edge of a thin, tattered looking blanket.

She was shivering, and her breath came out in little foggy clouds. She wrapped the blanket around herself, but it didn't seem to do any good. She rubbed her hands together and blew on them while glancing nervously around the room. Her eyes kept coming to rest at the door. She seemed frightened that someone would enter at any moment. It certainly wasn't to examine the room.

The room was bare except for the mattress, a toilet and little sink. There was no chair, no rug, no toys or books or paintings on the wall. No windows either. The whole room seemed to be made of concrete and the only light seemed come from a single light bulb.

It was odd how she remembered so much. Usually she hardly remembered her dreams. Everything was so vivid Even the ammonia-stink of the stained mattress was as clear as day .Same with the dry, chilled air and the utter silence of the room, they all felt so real. Phoebe kept shivering, wrapped in the blanket, keeping herself in a little ball to keep warm.

The silence was broken by the sound of the door opening, followed by the clacking sound of footsteps. Loki walked into the room, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Phoebe shrank back as far back from him as possible, but he bent down near her, and placed his hand on the top of her head. He ruffled her hair, and she shrank back more.

"Do not do that, my pet" he whispered, his voice calm, laced with threat, "You do not want to get hurt again, do you? Do you, pet?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Good girl," he ruffled her hair again, and then he looked down at her, "You soiled yourself again. Do you not remember what I told you?"

Phoebe shook her head.

"You are six years old, pet. That is much too old to be wetting yourself. You have a toilet right there. Do you understand me, pet?"

She looked down at the floor, humiliated, "I'm sorry."

Loki smiled, "You are forgiven, pet. You see? It is better when you apologize when you do a misdeed or make a mistake rather than trying to make up an excuse."

Phoebe nodded. She sniffled then wiped her nose on her sleeve. She stared at Loki wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Loki knelt on the ground, and pulled out a small paper bag from his jacket. He reached in and held up a cookie. He handed it her.

She held it with both hands and took a small bite. After that her eyes widened and she shoved the rest of the cookie into her mouth and swallowed without chewing.

"More?"

Loki held up another cookie, "Say the magic word, pet."

"Please?"

He handed it to her and she ate the cookie quickly. Loki smirked as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"Now what do you say?" he asked.

"Thank you?" she whispered tentatively, saying it like a question.

"Again, not so hard, pet. Are you thirsty?"

She nodded. Loki reached into the bag again and pulled out a small juice box. Phoebe stared as Loki stuck the straw in and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she whispered as took a sip.

" Good girl. I have to go now. But I will be back later." He kissed her head. She winced. He just gave a smirk and ruffled her hair again, "Behave yourself, pet."

He got up, leaving her alone, in the room.

The scene faded. But the dream hadn't ended there. She wished it had. Loki was standing in another room now. It wasn't large but it was roomy. Behind him was Captain America's shield hung up on the wall, underneath it was a glass display case, there resting were two handguns, a bow, a few arrows, and Tony Stark's arc reactor. To the other side, was the mounted head of the Hulk, stuffed like a deer's head.

Loki was still standing, holding a glass of wine in one hand, he was speaking aloud to himself, "I won, Thor. You are gone, dead, your body rotting in Asgard. Your son, now calls me father, he does not remember the truth. Perhaps I should have killed him, but I needed something to remind myself of the day Asgard fell. Funny is it not? Has it really been a decade since I defeated you? And Stark, oh where should I begin? Your little girl, she does not remember you either, the child does not even know who you are. I suppose I should not call her a child anymore, she is sixteen years old. A fine, beautiful young woman. She looks like her mother." Loki paused to take a sip, "Ah. Well, I should go check on her. She does get rather lonely without me. It is time for her snack, anyway."

He placed the glass on a table, and stepped through a door into a tiny room. It hadn't changed much. There was a rug on the floor and a little table. It was empty. The walls were still bare though and the mattress was still shoved into the corner. It smelled of all things, air freshener. Synthetic pine. That scent stuck with Hill. She wasn't sure why.

On the mattress sat a tiny, pale-skinned, skinny girl sat on it, curled into a ball, reading a book. Her hair was pulled in to a messy ponytail. It didn't look like it had been cut in years. She wore a thin dress, slightly worn and faded but undamaged. She wasn't wearing shoes or socks. She had a blanket tucked over her legs.

Phoebe. Her demeanor was different. She didn't flinch or cower as Loki walked in. Instead she put her book down and looked up at him eagerly, a huge dopey smile on her face. He came and sat down next to her, ruffled her hair.

"You are in a good mood , pet," he said still playing with her hair. He looked over her shoulder, "What book are you reading, today?"

She flipped the book over and showed him the cover.

He laughed, "You have read that many times, pet."

"It's my favorite. I like the part about the boat. Can I go on a boat?"

She still sounded like a little girl.

"No, pet. There are no such things as boats or cars or trains. Remember that books are not real. They are make-believe. But I am real and you are real. "

"Oh…Okay. What about eggs? Are eggs real?"

"You had an egg for breakfast. Remember?"

She nodded and fell silent. Loki turned to her, brushing the hair away from her face, "Look here, pet" he said, "I bought you something." He pulled a bag out of his pocket, and handed it to her. She pulled out a few cookies and downed them, swallowing without chewing. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and looked expectantly at Loki.

He smirked, "What do you say?"

"Thank you," it came out in a whisper.

"Good girl."

He smiled at her, stroked her hair, and kissed her. Then he began to climb on top of her, she fell on her back, not struggling, her eyes closed as though she had done it a hundred times before, and just as Loki was lifting up her skirt, but before anything else could happen, Hill had woken up on a cold sweat; shaky and guilt-ridden.

She had lay there, for nearly half an hour just trying to calm her down, reminding herself that it had all been a dream. But it nagged at her. What if Phoebe was locked up in some little room, as one of Loki's trophies, for him to do whatever he pleased with, as his own little whore, for her whole life? She had hardly considered Gunnar. What about him? The dream had been horrible enough. She had no idea how her brain had managed to come with such a situation. But, Phoebe was such a little, defenseless girl. Would Loki take advantage of that? She didn't doubt it. But Gunnar. She had hardly considered him. Her dream brushed him off but what if he were in the same situation; cold, starving, scared and alone? The guilt gnawed at her. So what if Gunnar was a boy and the son of a god? He was still just a little boy. He couldn't defend himself anymore than Phoebe or Stevie or Bryan could.

Poor Gunnar. Poor Phoebe. She hoped wherever they were that they were okay. One week was way too long not to know what happened to them. But she had the feeling that they wouldn't know what had truly happened to them for a while. Not for weeks, months or possibly years. But they would find them eventually.

_(So…What did you think of her dream? Good, bad, meh or HOW THE HELL DID YOU COME UP WITH THIS? Any comments, criticism, complaints? Please leave a review. Anything is appreciated. Thanks!)_


	13. Chapter 13

_(A/N: This chapter took me all week to write, so I really hope you all like it. As to answer the questions about time skips…This chapter features the first of many. Once again, I own nothing. Does anyone if I have to do one of these for every chapter or since I've done this twelve times before am I good? Just a reminder, I own Phoebe and Gunnar. I only say this because I had a friend read part of my fic once and think that Phoebe was cannon. This chapter is from Loki's POV, one year after the first chapter.)_

How quickly a year can go by, thought Loki, and how much can change. He was officially the ruler now. A king. He had fulfilled his birthright. Now Midgard kneeled before him. And his brother said he was ill-suited to the throne. He could almost laugh. He was doing well as ruler.

The Midgardians had accepted his rule easily. They could see the power he held. They learned their place quickly. They were the ants. He was the boot. Besides, he had done so much for them. He had ended their petty wars and disagreements. He had made education mandatory for every child. He made other laws as well, things he didn't see as important but were held near and dear to the hearts of many Midgardians. He had given them freedom to do many things. At least that's the way they saw it. No one dared to argue with his decisions. His word was law.

"Are we home yet?"

"No, my little one. Not yet."

"How much longer?"

"About an hour's time. Now, go to sleep. It is late."

He patted her head kindly and she snuggled down, her head on his lap. She held a teddy bear in her arms. He covered her back up with a blanket, and kissed the top of her head. On his other shoulder, Gunnar gently snored; his blanket lay on the carriage floor. He tousled the boy's hair absent mindedly.

It was not long before Phoebe fell asleep, the teddy bear dangling from her hand. He tucked it back under her arm. He had given it to her as a gift to replace her old one, which he was positive, was just in her old room collecting dust. She named it 'Anthony' like her old one had been called. He had not destroyed any of the Stark Towers. Like the children, they were almost like trophies, reminders of the things he had done and how powerful he was. They lay scattered about the country, abandoned.

The children…He smirked to himself. Slowly but surely, they were losing the memories of their former lives. Phoebe could no longer remember what her parents looked like. Just the other day, Gunnar referred to himself as Lokisson. His plan was working.

He knew that the "Resistance" or "Rebels" or "Avengers" or whatever they had decided their new name was thought that he kept the children locked away in some dark, terrible room where they sat shivering, scared, and starved. That he denied them food and beat them so they would listen to him. Sure, fear was always a nice motivator but not for children. It was better for them to like him. Then they would not question him or turn against him. It was easy. If they behaved they got whatever they desired; an extra treat after dinner, a new toy or book, affection…He laughed to himself, they certainly thought the worse of everything did they not? They thought that perhaps he was "training" Phoebe for when she was older. He stared at the sleeping girl, now that she was his daughter it was no longer a possibility. But she had plenty of other potential…

He had just introduced them to the public earlier that week. There had been a large press conference during which he had given a few speeches, enacted a few new laws then he had bought them out and introduced them as his adopted children. No one had recognized either of the children or connected them to their parents. At least, if they did they had not made it known yet. It would only be a matter of time before Director Fury found out.

There was not a need to keep the children secret anymore. They were now the most famous children in the realm. Prince Gunnar and Princess Phoebe. Perhaps eventually he would need a wife. The children could use a mother. Then he would have a "proper family." But then again, he already had two heirs; more would just complicate his plan. And he already had more than few women that he could choose to spend the night with. They were all beautiful; long-legged, supple-breasted, creamy-skinned, soft-lipped,the type Thor would have chosen when they were younger. Of course he ended up marrying his childhood friend Lady Sif. That stupid Midgardian Jane Foster, he had taken care of personally. Another revenge again his dear older brother.

Even better, the children would grow up like he did. As a means to an end. They would never know this, but nothing would give him more satisfaction than being in control of two of his enemies' children. They were trophies. Prizes. They would grow up thinking that they knew love. But they would not. And that would make them greater than anything their parents could have done with them. He was freeing them.

The carriage jerked suddenly. Both Phoebe and Gunnar awoke with a start. Phoebe held her toy tightly. Gunnar looked around confused.

"Father…"

"It is nothing to worry about, my son. We are nearly home."

"Was it rebels?"

"No, it was simply a pothole."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. The rebels would not dare attack a royal convoy. Even if they did, they would not be able to harm you or Phoebe. The guards would get them before they would even reach you. You are not in any danger," he said, "There is no reason for either of you to worry. Now back to sleep. It is much past your bedtimes. You have your history tutor in the morning and I expect you both to pay full attention."

"Yes, Fa…Uncle," Gunnar said realizing his mistake this time.

Loki just smiled, "You may start calling me Father if you wish, Gunnar. Same for you, my little one. I have taken care of you for the past year and will be taking care of you until you can care for yourselves."

"Alright, Father."

"Can I call you 'daddy' instead?"

Loki went silent for a moment and then smiled at the child, "Of course you may, my little one."

If she wanted to call him that, he figured, let her. It only gave him more control over her. He did not really care. It sounded better than constantly being called "Uncle" by the both of them. Phoebe laid her head on him.

"Go back to sleep," he kissed her forehead.

"Good night, Daddy. "

"Good night, my little one."

"I love you," she kissed him on the cheek. It was obvious she did not truly realize what she had just done.

"Love you too," he said flicking his answer like he would a pest. He turned to Gunnar who was staring out the window, "Is everything all right, my son?"

"Yes."

"I love you, as well, my son."

Gunnar gave a small smile, "I know. I love you too."

Loki tousled his hair. Gunnar hugged him. He was surprised by the sudden gesture but welcomed it. He gave Gunnar a hug in return.

Exactly as planned. Or close enough. Right at this moment, everything was in his favor, He should savor it. He was on top. All that was left to do was getting rid of that pesky "Rebellion. All he had to do was to wait for them to find him. He smirked. It would not be long now. And everything would be going according to his plan.

_(A/N: What did you think? Click that little comment button and tell me!)_


	14. Chapter 14

_(A/N: Let's see….where to start. As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. I don't believe there are any questions to answer this time around, so I'll go right into my usual spiel. I own nothing. However, a new character, Cooper, introduced in this chapter is one of my own creations much like the children. This week's chapter is from the most bad-ass character in the franchise, Director Nick Fury.)_

"Director Fury! Director Fury! Director Fury!"

Director Fury looked at his watch. Who the hell could need him at this time of night? It didn't sound like either of the boys. They should be asleep by now, anyway. They both still had nightmares, but they had subsided a bit since they both started getting regular visits from the Doc. Despite that, it had been a rough year for them all. Bryan had had several fits, some of which required sedation to stop him from destroying everything. He still carried around that ridiculous, ragged toy dinosaur. Stevie had become very sullen and spent a lot of his time in the weight room with the punching dummies. Fury figured he'd mention it to the Doc the next time he came around. It worried him. If this behavior continued, Stevie might not be able to fight.

"Director Fury!"

A boy, around twenty years old with a mop a dirty-blond hair dangling into his eyes rushed into the room, a camera dangling from his hand. Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. Cooper. He should have known. The kid never seemed to sleep.

"What is it, Cooper?"

The kid held out his camera, "I found 'em! Loki's adopting them. There was this whole big ceremony, and a press conference and a party. I got pictures of it and I took a few newspapers too. I figured they could be a little more informative. Check 'em out!"

Fury stared at him for a moment trying to follow what the kid was talking about, "Cooper, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Phoebe and Gunnar, sir. They're alive. They're alive and Loki's adopting them. It's the biggest news!"

"They're alive?"

Cooper nodded, smiling, "Yeah, I knew Loki was having some sort of huge ceremony so I decided to check it out. Luckily there was a huge crowd so I wasn't noticed."

"Good job, Agent."

Fury practically snatched the camera out of Cooper's hands. He seemed surprised but didn't say anything. Could it be true? Could they really be alive after all this time? Cooper stood behind him peering over his shoulder. He sat down at the table and started flipping through the photos. Most of them weren't any good; blurry, unfocused or the lens was covered by fingers. Idiot. How did he not know how to use a camera?

"Sorry about the photos…."

He ignored Cooper and continued shuffling though the photos. Was there even a decent one in the…finally, a good one. Loki was standing on a balcony, the children on either side of him. They looked healthy. Gunnar was dressed in what looked like traditional Asgardian clothing, a leather vest and a thick fur cape. Phoebe had been put in a matching dress and cape. Tony had been right, Loki was one for showing off. In another photo, Loki held Phoebe in one arm and was tousling Gunnar's hair with the other. In yet another, Phoebe and Gunnar were having crowns placed on their heads. In all the pictures, they had huge smiles on their faces. They had to have been brainwashed, only their eyes didn't have dull, blue, marbled look, the one that came from Loki's scepter. They had bright, happy, sparkling eyes. What had Loki done, that they still had the same eyes as before? He had gotten them to trust him. That was much worse. That bastard…that fucking bastard.

"Thanks, Cooper. You can head to the bunks."

Fury stared at the table. What now? How the hell were they supposed to get them back now with their faces plastered all over every newspaper and magazine in the country? At least, now he and Hill could have some idea what was going on with them and could plan on taking them back.

"Director? Is it true? Are they alive?"

He turned. He hadn't noticed Maria coming in but he turned around and nodded, "Yeah. They're alive."

"Thank God. Thank God…We should tell the boys…"

"In the morning. We shouldn't wake them up."

Waking them up would be a bad idea. It was one of the things he had learned in the past year. Besides, they were young. They needed sleep. That was the one thing he could guarantee they could get enough of. They were able to get food and supplies through the black market. They didn't ask questions and as long as they were paid enough, they wouldn't talk. It was too dangerous to go out to the legal markets. Loki had his armies everywhere and the second he walked into public, Fury knew he'd be arrested.

"Sir, did you read any of the newspapers?"

"No, why?"

"Read this. It's a copy of the speech Loki gave. Skip to the fifth paragraph in the third column."

Fury snatched the newspaper away and scanned the article until he found the part Maria had mentioned.

"_Just about a year ago, when my rule was just beginning to spread, terrible news was delivered to me. My only brother and his wife had been murdered. I was devastated but their son, my nephew and only remaining blood relative had survived. He has been in my care ever since. Not too long after, I was told that two of my most loyal followers, a married couple, had been murdered by the same people, the rebel group known as S.H.I.E.L.D. Not only had they murdered the poor couple while they slept in their bed, defenseless, but the wife had been raped and rebels had attempted to take away their only child, a young girl, to indoctrinate her in to their group. I cannot imagine what could have happened to her if they had succeeded. Out of sympathy, I took her in as well and decided to raise her alongside my nephew as my own child. For the past year, they have lived in my palace being educated and well-taken care of out of harm's way. So, I would like to introduce your new prince and princess; Gunnar and Phoebe."_

Fury stopped reading and started to crumple the paper up. Damn Loki. Damn him to hell. He was turning the kids into martyrs. He was making himself hero, taking in orphaned children. And now they were the enemies. Fury had to admit that Loki knew how to play the political game. If he hadn't known the whole story he might have fallen for it.

"You alright, sir?"

He threw the crumpled-up newspaper against the wall, "Fine."

They had failed. He had failed. He failed Howard Stark. He couldn't keep the Avengers Initiative together. He failed Tony. He wasn't able to keep Phoebe safe. Over the years he had begun to think of Tony more and more as friend especially once he realized how much Tony was like his father. He couldn't help but feel he had let both men down by losing Phoebe.

He failed Thor. He knew he probably couldn't have done anything to save Gunnar but he couldn't help but think he could have helped the kid. Gunnar was as much a part of the Avengers 2.0 as the others. He should have tried!

"Sir?"

He sighed, "I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Sir, you should go to bed."

"What are you, my mother?"

"It's past midnight, sir. We both need to sleep. We can come with a plan in the morning."

Fury nodded figuring he wasn't going to win the argument. Hill was right anyway. He should go to bed. It was late. He got up leaving the camera on the table and headed towards his room. He stopped and turned around to face her.

"Good night, Maria," he said.

"Good night sir," she said.

He gave her a small nod and watched as she went to her room. In the morning, they'd tell Bryan and Stevie the good news and then while the boys were in their lessons, they'd figure out a plan, to get Gunnar and Phoebe back. But first he should listen to his 'mother'. After all, mothers know best.

_(A/N: Thanks for reading. What did you guys think of Cooper? Maria? Fury? Tell me. I really appreciate every little comment, question and review. Seriously. They make my day. So, again thanks for reading and I hope the rest of your week is awesome.)_


	15. Chapter 15

_(A/N: Okay, I'm starting to think that maybe I don't need these notes at the beginning and end of every chapter. But I will say, posting a new chapter every week is a whole hell of a lot harder than I thought. Especially with school. I've been spending so much time on the computer that I've forgotten how to blink. But anyway, the chapter from the only child of group with two X chromosomes, Phoebe! (And of course, I own nothing. But you all know that.))_

"How were your morning lessons, my children?"

"Good," Phoebe said as she picked at her lunch. Steak, mashed potatoes, vegetables and a cup of milk. She looked over to Gunnar who nodded; his mouth was full of food.

Most days, she and Gunnar ate lunch in the playroom and the food was always something she liked; spaghetti, peanut butter sandwiches, soup, tuna fish, and grilled cheese. Lunch was always her favorite meal, even before when she lived with her real parents. Sometimes, her daddy would come into her school with Burger King for her. He'd get her the kid's meal with nuggets, soda, French fries, and a toy. Or he would bring her schwarma, which was really yummy. Or would take her out for lunch and they would go to the diner where she would get an extra-huge chocolate milkshake. He would always tell her not to tell mommy because he'd get into trouble for giving her junk food. She still missed them sometimes, even though it had been a year. Her daddy's friend who she lived with was her new daddy now. He had adopted her and her friend Gunnar.

Sometimes, she missed her new daddy when he had to go away. He had to go away a lot. She was afraid that he might never come back, like her daddy and mommy on their trip. That the Rebels would hurt him and then they would find her and Gunnar and hurt them. But he promised he wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let anyone hurt them.

"Father, after lunch could Phoebe and I ride our horses?"

Phoebe turned to her new daddy excitedly, "Can we? Please?"

Gunnar looked really hopeful. He loved horses. Phoebe knew that. Phoebe didn't like it as much because she couldn't ride without falling off but she was learning.

He shook his head, "You both have lessons this afternoon. Last week was very busy and you didn't get much accomplished, both of you must focus on your studies this week."

Phoebe looked to Gunnar. He was holding his head down and was moving his mashed potatoes around on his plate. She knew Gunnar never liked to argue with grow-ups. They got into arguments sometimes but he never argued with anyone else.

"What lessons do I have?" Phoebe asked. Maybe she would have a riding lesson before dinner. That would be fun. Or science. That was her favorite. But she didn't have as much as her other classes.

"Etiquette then foreign language and then you have an appointment with Doctor Charlie."

Phoebe made a face. Gunnar laughed. None of the classes sounded like fun. Her etiquette teacher was old and strict and she could never understand her foreign language , she didn't like seeing Doctor Charlie. He was old and weird. She was supposed to talk to him about her nightmares, because she used to have a lot of them but she didn't have a lot anymore, "Do I have to see Doctor Charlie?"

"Yes, my little one, you do. Now finish your lunch. You both have very busy afternoons and you need all the energy you can."

"Why?"

"Why do you both have a busy afternoon?"

She shook her head, "No, why do I have to see Doctor Charlie?"

"It is so your nightmares do not return , my little one," he sighed, " Remember when you came to live with me a year ago? You had nightmares many nights and could not sleep alone. Doctor Charlie helps people with nightmares. I know you do not have as many nightmares now, little one, but I would like you to continue seeing him for the time being. I will talk to him and see if he thinks you are ready to see him less, alright?"

"Alright," she said, "But, I didn't have nightmares last week and I didn't see him all."

"I know, my little one, but last week we were traveling. We did not have time to see him, nor did you have enough sleep. Now that you have had a couple days to readjust to being back home, little one, I would like you to see him again. That is final. We are no longer having this discussion."

Phoebe shrank back. She hadn't meant to get him upset. She had seen him get angry at the servants before. Or she would hear him yelling at them. He had only gotten angry at her once, when she had gone into his study without his permission. She wasn't supposed to do that but Gunnar had taken her favorite toy and wouldn't give it back. But she had gotten into a lot of trouble. He had sent her to her room and she hadn't been allowed to have dinner. They had even had her favorite dessert that night. She didn't want to miss it again.

"Okay. I'll go."

"Good girl," he leaned over and kissed her head.

She smiled at him. Good. He wasn't mad, "Can I be done?"

He looked at her plate,"I suppose. I will call in a servant to escort you and Gunnar back to the playroom."

"Okay."

That was good. Normally she had to eat everything on her plate even if it was something she didn't like. It was one of the rules they had and there were a lot of rules. She had to wear dresses. She wasn't allowed to play with LEGOs. She had to go to bed half an hour after sun set. Gunnar got to stay up later. I

Also, they weren't allowed to go anywhere without a servant or guard. Even in the palace. She and Gunnar both had very special guards whose job was it to protect them. They had other servants too who cleaned their rooms for them, made the beds and who helped them get dressed and bathe. But their body guards were the most important.

The one she had now was new, she wasn't sure what happened to the one before. He had just disappeared one day. He had been very nice. But this new one was different. He didn't talk to her at all. She didn't even know his name.

Gunnar walked next to her eating the last of his roll. He ripped it in half and held out a piece. Phoebe shook her head. She really wasn't hungry. Her tummy felt tight and nervous.

"Why don't you see Doctor Charlie?"

Gunnar shrugged, "I do not know. I suppose because I do not have nightmares."

"I guess. But we talk about other things too."

"Such as?"

Phoebe kept quiet. She wasn't supposed to say what happened. If there was anything bad Doctor Charlie would tell her new daddy and then he'd talk to her about it. Like about her daddy being a super-hero. They kept telling her that he hadn't been. It was confusing. She was so sure her daddy had been a super-hero. She remembered him being a super-hero.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Sure sure?"

She nodded.

"Alright," he squeezed her hand, "If you do, I'm here."

"Thanks."

_(A/N: I feel like my creativity is going down the drain. Maybe I should move the story along a little faster. What do you think? And opinions, comments, questions, concerns, suggestions, disagreements….on this chapter? I would seriously appreciate anything you guys have to say. Thanks a bunch for reading!)_


	16. Chapter 16

_(A/N I'm sorry for taking so long to post up this chapter. I had a small case of "I have too much homework" with a touch of writer's block. So, I'll cut to the chase here. This chapter is from Bryan's perspective. I hope you like it.)_

Bryan took in a deep breath trying to remember what the Doc had told him about controlling himself. He counted to ten in his head and breathed out. He did again. And a third time. It wasn't working. He clamped his hands over his ears and started to hum. It made him feel better. He took in another deep breath and breathed out. Then he heard foot steps.

"Bryan, sweetie, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Agent Hill," Bryan squeezed his dinosaur toy tightly; "I just don't feel good."

"Like you need to go rest?"

He shook his head. He didn't want to go into the room. He didn't want to be given the shots that made him fall asleep and made him feel so tired he couldn't concentrate on anything and made his stomach upset.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I'm okay."

He was happy that Agent Hill would believe him. Not that he lied but the Director would usually make him go to his "special room" for an hour or two. He felt like the Director didn't trust him at all. It made him feel bad. Like he didn't belong. Like he was a freak.

"Good. Now, it's snack time."

"Snack time?" he asked. They never had snack time. They never had enough food for it.

"Yes. Now, hurry up."

He followed her into their dining area. The Director and Stevie were already there. He hugged Peter tightly to his chest. The last time they had had a meeting like this, Agent Hill and the Director had given him and Stevie a very long talk about how they weren't sure where Phoebe and Gunnar were or if they were still okay.

"Do you know what's going on?" he whispered.

"No," Stevie said, "Are you okay?"

Bryan nodded. Stevie flashed him a smile.

"Boys, we have some good news and some bad news," Agent Hill said, "The good news is Phoebe and Gunnar are alive. They are okay."

Bryan went wide-eyed. He couldn't believe it. His best friends were alive! That was really good news. Wasn't it? That meant they could all be together and train and fight Loki and win. Then things could get better. They could go back to school and live happily ever after like in the stories. They could be a family.

"The bad news is; we aren't sure if we can get them back. You see, we were right. Loki has them. And he's…he's..he's raising them. He's pretending that he's their daddy and that he cares about them. And so it's going to be hard to get them back. Do you understand?"

Bryan nodded even though he didn't really understand well. Why would a bad guy want to take care of kids and why would that mean it was harder to get them back? Wouldn't Phoebe and Gunnar want to come see them? Or did they really think Loki was their daddy? How could they?

"Why is it gonna be hard? Can't we just go and rescue them?"

"No, I'm sorry. It isn't that easy, Stevie. We need you boys to get stronger before we rescue them. Alot stronger."

Bryan nodded. His tummy growled, "You said something about snacks?"

Agent Hill laughed and nodded, "Yes, Bryan, there are snacks. We thought you boys deserved a little treat."

Bryan thought the snacks were yummy. There was some cut-up apple and banana and graham crackers and some chocolate spread that was kind of like peanut butter. It was stuff they didn't get to eat a lot because they weren't easy to find in the market where Agent Hill and the director went to buy food and clothes and everything else they needed.

It was over too quickly. Even though it wasn't much, he had fun. They really didn't have many parties or anything. Even his 7th birthday a couple of weeks ago hadn't really been a party. He had gotten to choose the dinner and that was it. He always had fun when they had treats because whenever they did they pretended like nothing was wrong. It was like before..

The rest of day went by as normal though. They trained, they had a math lesson and an English lesson. They had dinner. He didn't take a shower because it was Stevie's day to bathe. Then it was time for bed. Like every day, he was tired and just wanted to go to sleep. And like most other days, it was cold in the lay in his bed holding Peter tightly to his chest trying to stay warm. But he couldn't stop shivering. He heard footsteps and he quickly pretended to be asleep.

"See Maria, they're fine. They're fast asleep. No harm done."

"I don't think they understood completely."

"They understood it fine, Maria. They're smart boys."

Bryan felt strong fingers tousle his hair. That was the Director. Then he felt someone gently kiss his forehead. That was Agent Hill. Then he felt another blanket being placed over him. He wasn't sure who that was.

"I know. I know. I'm just…"

Agent Hill, he was sure it was her, tucked the blanket under him. It had been awhile since he had gotten tucked in. He liked it.

"You're just being a worried mother."

"Ha ha, very funny, sir."

Bryan smiled. He wouldn't mind Agent Hill being his mother. She was nice, pretty and she tucked him in. But…would that make the Director his daddy? They lived together and sometimes called each other by their first names and one time he and Stevie had seen her kiss the Director on the cheek and Stevie said that Agent Cooper had said that they shared a bed one night. Wasn't that what daddies did with mommies? But he wasn't so sure about the last part; Agent Cooper said a lot of things that weren't really true.

"We should let them sleep in peace…They're growing, they need their rest."

"They need a lot more than rest."

"I know."

He heard more footsteps and the Director and Agent Hill left the room. Bryan turned over. He couldn't tell if Stevie was awake or not. But, he was very tired. He just wanted to go to sleep. Bryan snuggled deep into his blankets and gave Peter a kiss.

"Hey, Bryan, are you awake?"

He turned to his side and faced Stevie, "Yeah."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Bryan said rubbing his eyes. What would Stevie want to talk about when they're supposed to be asleep? Wasn't he tired too?

Stevie took a deep breath like he was nervous, "I'm going to kill Loki. I'm going to kill him."

The way he said it scared Bryan. He shivered, "Why?"

"Before he killed my mommy, he hurt her. He hurt her really badly. I was getting bad dreams about it, and I told the Doc today and the Doc told Agent Hill…What he did to my mommy was bad, Bryan. Real bad."

. He knew Stevie had nightmares, more than he did. His nightmares were always about when Loki killed his daddy. Sometimes Loki hurt him. Were Stevie's nightmares like that? Did he have dreams about Loki hurting his mommy?

"What did he do to your mommy?"

"I dunno really. Agent Hill wouldn't tell me. She just said it's a really bad thing that bad men sometimes do to women…He was on top of her and she was crying and screaming and asking him to stop but he wouldn't. He called her some bad names. And…and," Stevie began to cry.

Bryan kept quiet. His daddy had told him about something like that because his grandparents, his mommy's parents had thought that maybe that's what his daddy had done to his mommy. They knew about his dad's "condition" and thought that he was a monster. They didn't like him. They didn't like him or his daddy.

"Bryan, what if he's doing it to Phoebe?" Stevie said. He was wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"I don't think it works that way," Bryan said, "You have to be grown up to do things like that. And Agent Hill would've told us if she was hurt, right?"

"I guess you're right."

Stevie went quiet and stopped crying, and they stared at each other for a really long time. He felt bad that bad things happened to Stevie's mommy. She had been really nice and made excellent chocolate-chip cookies. He had gone home with Stevie a lot after school and his mommy had always made cookies for them. He missed those cookies.

"Well, we gotta make a plan. We can't just train. We need to plan," Stevie said, "Just me and you."

"We can't fight Loki. We're too little."

"I know," Stevie said, "But we don't need to fight him. We just need to rescue Phoebe and Gunnar. Then they come live with us for awhile to train and then we can fight Loki and beat him. As a team."

Bryan thought about it for a moment, "Okay. Let's do it."

It did actually sound like a pretty good idea. Stevie's other ideas weren't always good, like how he wanted to go back to Phoebe's home to see if her daddy had giant robot they could use to smash Loki into the ground like in that TV show _Power Rangers_ they all used to watch on Saturday mornings. But they were far away from Phoebe's house and it was dangerous for them to go outside. Loki could find them if they did.

"We're gonna need super-hero names."

"Why? Loki knows who we are."

"But other people don't, Bryan!"

"Oh yeah," he said. He had forgotten about that.

"Super-heroes always have cool names."

He didn't want to choose a super hero name though. What if he couldn't control himself one day? Then everyone would know who he was. He couldn't hide it like Stevie. All Stevie had to do was put on a mask and no one would know who he was. He was lucky. Gunnar was lucky too. Everyone knew Gunnar had powers. And everyone knew Phoebe's daddy was Iron Man.

"I'm going to be Patriot."

"Why?"

"Cause a patriot is someone who supports where they live and if we defeat Loki everything will go back to the way it was before. Then I'll still be a patriot and I'll fight for the country like my dad did."

That made sense.

"I guess I'll be the Hulk like my daddy was…That's a good name, right?"

"Yeah, it is. And you can always change it, if you want to."

"Yeah."

They lay in their beds for awhile, quietly. Soon, Bryan could hear Stevie snoring but now Bryan didn't feel much like sleeping anymore. His tummy was all tight and nervous. But he felt excited too. He kissed Peter's head. Was it okay for a super hero to carry a stuffed dinosaur? He hoped so. He didn't want to give Peter up. Not now. Not ever.

_(A/N: Alrighty, so what did you think? Was Bryan good in this chapter? Stevie? I figured it was about time I bought one of their perspectives back and I knew a lot of people liked Bryan. Plus, I have a major chapter planned for Stevie coming up. I know my updates have been kind of random lately and I feel like my chapters have kind of declined in quality and I'm sorry about that. I've been super-busy with school and college stuff. Hopefully, it should calm down in a few weeks and then ladies and gentlemen I will be your humble servant. *bows*But as usual, anything you have to say will be greatly appreciated. Speaking of which, I'm also thinking of updating every other week and making the chapters a bit longer. I would like to know what you think. Once again, thanks for reading.)_


	17. Chapter 17

_(A/N: I apologize on how late this chapter is and how I really did skip a week. I also apologize about the quality. It isn't my best and I feel terrible about it but the past week has been really busy. You know school and all. This chapter is from Gunnar's POV, which is harder to write than I thought. Please enjoy..)_

"Concentrate, Gunnar. You need to visualize yourself within the circle. Visualize yourself disappearing and then reappearing within the circle."

Gunnar closed his eyes and tried picturing himself inside the circle his father had drawn on the floor. Nothing happened. He was never good with sorcery. He struggled with even the simplest of spells. He could not help but feel as though he was disappointing his father.

"Concentrate," his father said again.

"I am," Gunnar scrunched his face and tried focusing on making himself at least disappear for even a moment. He had done that before. But he had barely been able to make himself fade before he reappeared... He wanted to at least do that…Nothing happened. He felt like crying.

"I think that's enough for today, Gunnar."

"Let me try again."

"There is no use, my son. Magic is very taxing and you have been practicing a long time. You must rest."

Gunnar nodded holding back tears. He understood.

"Do not worry, my son, you will be able to do it soon enough," his father said as he mussed around his hair, "I was just a little older than yourself before I really began to understand the power of sorcery."

"Yes, Father."

At least his father understood that he was trying and doing the best he could. He had not been practicing long…and as his father had explained magic was an art that took a long time to learn and only a few could become sorcerers.

He looked at his father who was staring at the floor annoyed, "Disgusting…Practically ruined the floor…Someone come clean this, now!"

A servant rushed in with a bucket and immediately started scrubbing at the circle with a wash cloth. Gunnar watched as she cleaned it up. His father stared at her as well, looking the servant up and down. It gave him the creeps. He shivered.

"Gunnar, go join your sister. I believe her dance lesson is just ending and it is just around time for your afternoon snack. Then you have your history tutor at half-past three."

"Yes, Father."

He shuffled out of the room and started down the hallway, his body-guard just a few paces behind him. He hated it. He could never do anything fun, he could not even sneak a slice of cake from the kitchens without his father knowing. It was no fun being watched all the time. Of course, he knew it was not because his father did not trust him but wanted to protect him. But, he did not like having his every move watched.

"I would like to ride my horse."

"Master Gunnar, I know you would but my job is to keep you safe and right now…"

"I do not care. It is not as though I am wandering off without supervision or leaving the grounds. It will not harm my sister to entertain herself for awhile."

He had no idea where the words came from. He was just upset. Why had his father given him a horse a present, if he did not want him riding it? The palace had hundreds of guards and he had ridden plenty of times before without being harmed or attacked.

"Are you sure?"

He turned to the servant, "Yes. Now are you going to escort me or not?"

"Yes, sir, Master Gunnar," he bowed.

"Thank you," he said and headed outside.

The stable was one of his favorite things about the palace. His father had presented both him and Phoebe with their own horses for the winter holidays. He had wanted to name his Slepnir, after the All-Father's horse but his father had forbidden that as a name and his horse had turned out to be female. Instead he had named her Cassiopeia, after his favorite constellation and the name of a woman from a myth from a Midgardian civilization that had existed many millenniums ago.

She was a beautiful horse with a golden coat and a cream-colored mane. Yes. Cassiopeia had been the perfect name for her. Across the stables was Phoebe's horse, a handsome ebony horse who she had named Jarvis.

It felt good to be riding. It felt good to be alone for once, even if he could hear the pattering of the bodyguard's horse not too far behind him. The path twisted through the grounds, passing by the garden, lake and went into the woods. The woods were his favorite part. He liked the rustle of the trees as he passed though. When he became king, he would ride outside every single day, no matter what the weather. Nobody would be able to tell him what to do. Nobody.

He could forget about everything that was going wrong. There were no expectations. No magic that needed to be done. He did not have to be a prince. He could just be himself. He wished he could ride forever. And ever.

"Master Gunnar, I know it is not my place, but I suggest that you begin to head inside as it is a quarter of an hour to three. You should rest a little before your history tutor."

"Good idea," Gunnar grunted and turned Cassiopeia around and back to the stables. He had his history tutor at three every other day. He had almost forgotten about it. If he was late for his lesson, his father would be furious with him.

He jumped off Cassiopeia and handed her reins over to the stable care-taker. He ran into the palace passing a huddled group of female servants. They seemed to comforting another woman. He ignored it.

He scurried down the hall, hoping that his father was busy with something so that he would not catch him in the halls when he was supposed to be with Phoebe. Not that she would tattle on him. He knew she often spent her spare time with her little colored bricks and bits of metals, which their father did not approve of but he kept it secret because he knew it kept her happy.

He passed by his father's study; one of the few rooms in the house he was forbidden from entering.

"Now, Samuel, do you have more information?"

"Yes, my lord, but not much."

Gunnar stopped. His father was talking with one of the men he hired to spy on the Resistance. Samuel was one of the more friendly spies. He talked really fast and joked around a lot.

"Tell me."

"Well, the boys have found out. And it's very funny. I overheard them the other night. They are planning a rescue."

Gunnar stopped for a moment. Who were they talking about? And who were they planning on rescuing?

"Nothing we should concern ourselves with at the moment. But please, keep an ear open. I would like to prepared for any even t that may come in the future."

"Of course, sir."

What of the relationship of the Director and Miss Hill?"

"Nothing has come of it yet. I thought something had occurred last month but it turned out that that night the heater was broken. They were both attempting to keep warm. The boys had done the same."

"Unfortunate. But if we let things run their natural course, it will happen. They are a man and a woman living together, and though they will not admit it, they have emotions and they certainly have a level of affection for each other. If the plan goes well, we will be able use those affections to our advantage."

"Of course, it would be, my lord."

Gunnar was even more confused. Was he talking about the Resistance? He had always said that the Resistance was full of cruel evil people who did not care for anyone but themselves. Why would his father want a romance between two of them? Perhaps one of them was a spy…No that did not make sense. But he figured his father knew what he was doing. After all, he was the king.

He knew he should stop listening. He probably should not be hearing these things. He did not want to get into trouble…

"Is that everything you have to report?"

"Just about…I do have photos."

"Show them to me."

Gunnar stopped listening. If there were going to be photographs, there was no point in listening and by now he was probably late. Luckily, the playroom was about a hundred yards or so down the hall. His bodyguard was sitting on a chair outside the room; he raised an eyebrow and waved him inside. Phoebe's bodyguard barely looked up.

The tutor was not there. The desks had not yet been set up yet either. That was odd. He was almost certain he was late. But there was no one in except Phoebe who was laying on her stomach on a pile of pillows playing with her little bits of metal.

"Hey, Gunnar. Where were you? You missed snack-time."

"I was out riding…Father told me not too but…"

"I understand," she said looking at her contraption.

Gunnar could not help but laugh, "So you will not tell Father if I will not tell him?"

"Yes."

"Pinky promise?"

Phoebe smiled and held out her pinky. She was the one who showed him what a pinky promise was. It happened not long after they had both been adopted. She had been really scared and had come into his room. She was scared about being attacked. He promised that he would not let anyone hurt her. That is when she showed him. He had thought that pinkie promises were only made for big things but Phoebe liked to make them for smaller things too.

"I have to see Doctor Charlie later."

"Do not worry little sister. I know you do not like him. But he is one of Father's most trusted men."

"He has me talk about weird things…But he's a spy like Samuel, right?"

Gunnar nodded.

He started thinking about what his father had been talking about with Samuel. "The boys" were a future threat. Who were they? He knew about Director Fury though. He was an evil man who had led the attacks against his and Phoebe's parents. He had no emotions and would not hesitate to harm him or Phoebe if he saw them. He was against everything his father stood for and always had been. Even though he was a Midgardian, his father had not yet been able to defeat him.

And who was the woman that his father talked about that he said might fall in love with Director Fury. How could they use that? Would she not be just as evil? He was confused. Perhaps, she was a spy as well?

Maybe he should just not think about it. He had other more important things to think about. He had to learn how to do magic before he became king. He had to learn to do magic, before he could make his father proud. He should not spend so much time on his horse or outside. He never saw his father take a break during the day.

And his father was great king. He was the best leader Midgard had ever had. He had heard his father's speeches on how all children were going to school and learning, how there was food and water for everyone, and how there was no more wars because everyone was under one ruler. Everyone was happy.

If he wanted to be ruler, he had to be like his father. He had to work at being better. At everything. That way if his father didn't defeat the Director and his men, he had to. It was his duty as a prince. Today might belong to his father, but the future, tomorrow, would belong to him. If he was good enough…

_(A/N: So, once again, I am so sorry that this chapter is so late. But what did you think? Bad chapter? Good chapter? Any idea about Samuel? Or perhaps Doctor Charlie? Are you ready for a time skip? Tell me! I did not forget about you people. It was simply that I had an eighteen page English project to finish, I got sick and well, school in general was busy. This coming week (the eighteenth through the twenty fourth) I will be even busier and so there probably will not be a new chapter next week. I have Hell Week for my musical and will not have a lot of time to work. And I did put a reference to the musical my school is doing somewhere in this chapter. Let's see who can find it. They will get mentioned in the next chapter.)_


	18. Chapter 18

_(A/N: Holy crap, I wrote a lot. I guess that's good since I'm a bit behind in my posting. Speaking of which, my spring break is coming up and I'm going away. But don't worry. I'm going to Disney World, so everything's good. Anyway, I'd like to thank srosegarden and Kadorienne for putting my story on alert and everyone else who commented. You people keep me going! This new chapter has a time skip. Yay, time skips! I like time skips! It's been about five years since the last chapter so that means both Gunnar and Stevie are about thirteen and Bryan and Phoebe are about eleven. And as I thought it was time and due to popular request, this chapter will be told from Stevie's point of view. I feel bad for not doing more from his point of view when he was younger but I figured it was time to get the story moving a little more quickly. I'm sorry if you guys think this is a little rushed, I apologize. But anyway, here you are, Chapter 18.) _

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Alright, we should go then…" Stevie paused. His tongue felt dry and his stomach was all knotted up around itself. Was this how his father felt before he would go off to fight? Did his hands sweat in the gloves? Was he ever afraid of getting hurt? Or dying?

He knew he was afraid. He knew he shouldn't be. He wasn't a kid anymore. He was thirteen years old. He was a teenager. That was a whole lot different than being a snot-nosed kid who couldn't tie his own shoes. That's what he was like five years ago…when he was eight and the Director had bought him 'home'. A lot had changed since then.

He and Bryan crept through the streets. They were empty. It was at least an hour after curfew, and in the middle of winter. He was dressed in a pair of overalls and an old college sweatshirt of Agent Cooper's along with a ski mask, dyed to look his father's mask and tattered pair of gloves. Bryan wore an old sweater and pair of khakis but no mask and a satchel around his shoulder. They looked nothing like heroes. Nothing like heroes at all.

"Maybe, we should head back, Stevie…Before the Director and Agent Hill wake up and we get ourselves killed or something."

Stevie gritted his teeth trying to ignore Bryan. They had been planning this for years. It was perfect. Loki was currently in his palace in New York City. He wasn't sure how many palaces Loki had…there were at least a half dozen in the country alone. The one, in the city was one of the least guarded and the closest. Both he and Bryan could navigate there walking backwards with their eyes closed. They knew the number of steps, the short cuts, long cuts, hiding spots…They knew the outline of the palace. They couldn't give up just because they were frightened.

"We are not turning back now," he snapped, "I don't give a fuck about how much your feet hurt or your 'asthma' acting up or if you're scared. We are doing this, Bryan. We are going to get Phoebe, tonight. We might not get another chance for awhile."

"Okay…Stevie. Okay."

"Good."

They continued the rest of the way in silence. The only sound was the snow crunching under their boots. The party was still going on. Stevie knew that they didn't blend in. That wasn't the plan. The plan was a rescue mission. And no one but he and Bryan knew it. Not even the Director or Agent Hill. That way, not even Loki would know their plan.

"You got everything?"

Bryan nodded. His eyes looked wide, "What about you," he gave a little smile, "Capt'n?"

"Yeah. I got everything," he pulled the ski mask tighter over his face, "See you soon."

Bryan went off to the back. Stevie took a deep breath and looked around. No guards. Quickly, he climbed over the wall that surrounded the palace and jumped down. He ran for the side door without thinking. It was unlocked. Good. No need to use his kit.

The palace was unexpectedly warm. He realized this as he began to sweat while creeping through the halls. He had always thought that the palace would be freezing. It was also much bigger than he had thought. His stomach tightened again and lurched. Nerves. He hadn't eaten anything all day. He'd been too nervous to. He knew it had been stupid. He needed the energy but…he had felt like if he did eat something he would puke.

He had been surprised that Director Fury hadn't said anything. Or Agent Hill. They usually noticed everything that went on. Sometimes it felt like he had no privacy. He hoped that they wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night to check on him and Bryan, only to discover them missing. Even though, he was thirteen and Bryan was eleven, Agent Hill would still check on them at night, put extra blankets on them and would kiss their foreheads good night like she did when they first came. He didn't know why she did it, just that she did.

Phoebe's room was on the left side at the end of a long hallway. Gunnar's was on the right. The names were engraved on gold plates on the doors. Stevie had never seen such richness. He was so used to his room in the bunker, with his old cot and thin doubled mattresses. He was used to shivering at night, occasionally sharing the bed with Bryan to share body heat or staying up all night under the covers, pouring over their plans with flashlights so they wouldn't get caught.

He hoped Bryan was doing okay. They had decided that Bryan would try to find anything that Loki might have of their parents. Old weapons, photos, videos, books…things he might have kept as trophies. Loki had stolen his father's shield, his most prized possession. He didn't want to think about how Bryan might react to seeing his father's head mounted on a wall. Or what he might think if he came across a video that recorded the death.

He would be performing the actual rescue.

That's what they were calling it, anyway. A rescue.

"Mr. Hyde to Patriot. Hyde to Patriot. Are you in?"

Stevie picked up his walkie-talkie, "Patriot to Hyde. I'm in."

"Is she in there?"

"Do you hear screaming?"

"Good point. "

"You find his trophy room yet?"

"Nah. Probably in the main palace, but I'll look some more."

"Okay. I'm out."

"Okay. See you soon."

He hung the walkie-talkie back on his belt. Bryan hadn't been caught yet, that was a good sign. He slipped into Phoebe's room. The floor was wood with a thick rug. A fire rumbled in the fireplace. A bowl of fruit was on the side table near the bed. The bed had a thick quilt and about a dozen pillows along with a stuffed teddy bear. He had seen a similar one in the Director's room many times. He had gotten it from Phoebe's room, the night Loki had kidnapped her. Loki had given her a replacement…

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

"Good night, Princess. Is there anything more I can do for you? Do you need a glass of water, hot tea, your usual mug of cocoa?"

"No, thank you. I am fine."

"I apologize that you are upset that you could not stay at the party longer but…"

"I understand my father's reasoning. It is very late, I am young, and need my rest. Thanks for your concern but I will be fine."

"Do you need help getting ready for bed?"

"No. I will put myself to sleep tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good night then, my lady."

"Good night."

Stevie held his breath and waited for Phoebe to come in. When she saw him, her eyes got wide. He pinned both her hands behind her back with on hand and covered her mouth with the other.

"If you promise not scream, I will let you go. I am not here to hurt you, Phoebe. I simply want to talk. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Good," he said and released her. She spun away from him and turned into a fighting stance, her shaking hands curled into fists, "I know karate."

He stared at her for a moment and gave a quick laugh. He couldn't help it. Even if she did actually know karate, he'd be able to take her down easily.

"What is so funny?"

"Never mind," he said, "You probably do not remember me but we used to be friends."

"And you find this reason to sneak into my room in the middle of night dressed like a hooligan?"

Stevie wasn't sure how to answer. He rolled up his ski mask to reveal his face. He took in a deep breath, "Phoebe, you are going to have to trust me. I know you have no reason to. But please, one chance. Just the two of us."

"Just us?"

"Just us. No guards. No princes or fathers."

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes piercing through him, just like Loki's stare had…. "Very well. Five minutes."

It was better than nothing, "Fine. My name is Steve Rogers Jr. Mostly everyone calls me Stevie," he said as he went through his prepared speech in his head, "As I said, we were friends. We used to go to the same school, play together on the weekends, everything. My dad and your dad, your birth dad, were very good friends. He was killed by the same man who murdered your parents. The same thing happened to my friend Bryan's father. If you would join us, we can avenge them."

"Why did you come to me, and not my father or even my brother?"

He paused. He wasn't sure what to say. His palms were starting to sweat again. His tongue felt dry. He shouldn't have bothered with the speech. That was stupid. But for some reason, he had thought that she might recognize him or something. She was still staring at him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"It isn't important, Phoebe. You just need to trust me. Please. You can still join the side of good and avenge your father's death properly."

"What do you mean, properly? What do you mean the side of good? My father was a good man."

"Your father was not who you think he was."

"My father was a humble man, a simple engineer but was extremely loyal to the King, that is why I was taken in and made a princess rather than being left on the streets for dead or sold into slavery on the black market or raised in an orphanage. He cared for me very much when he was alive and I wish you do not disrespect his memory."

Was that what Loki had told her? She believed that crap? He couldn't believe it. What had happened to her? Had he really told her that she could have died or been sold as a prostitute? The black market didn't even deal with slavery, as far as he knew. Most of the people were actually pretty nice guys, they had just fallen on hard times and were trying to support themselves.

"How well do you remember your father?"

"Very fondly."

"How much of it do you actually remember and how much did your 'father' tell you about?"

She looked at him angrily, "Now, boy, I believe your five minutes are up. If you are done harassing me and insulting my father, you can leave before I call the guards."

He froze. This wasn't the way the plan was supposed to go. Not at all. He had to get out as quickly as possible. Bryan could only spend so long in Loki's office. It was dangerous, here. And he had to leave. He had to leave with Phoebe. That was the whole point. But now, his original plan wasn't going to work. "Don't, please," he said as he dug into his pocket, "I really don't want to have to hurt you."

"What do you mean?"

"If you give away that I'm here, then they'll find my friend too and things won't turn out well. He can be very dangerous…" He found what he was looking for. He gripped it tightly in his palm.

He knew he said the wrong thing. Her eyes widened with fright, "You are one of them! You're one of them! A part of the Resistance, a Rebel, an Avenger…Aren't you? Aren't you?"

He panicked. He grabbed her, pinning her arms behind her back again, and covering her mouth. He held the syringe from his pocket with the hand biding her arms.

She bit his hand. It drew blood.

He grimaced, "Ow. Seriously, come on. I don't want to hurt you."

"Then let me go."

"I'm sorry," he said and jammed the needle into her arm. She gave a small yelp and crumpled. He had never meant to use the sedatives on her. They weren't meant for her. They were for Bryan, in case he got too out of hand. They had never been part of the official plan. But at least, he hadn't needed to hurt her, she'd be awake in a few hours.

He sighed and quickly pulled out his walkie-talkie, "Patriot to Hyde. I've got her. Move out."

He didn't wait for a reply. Instead he quickly put her over his shoulder. She was lighter than he thought she'd be. He couldn't wait to see the Director's face when he saw that he and Bryan had managed to rescue Phoebe. He would be proud of them. All their hard work and training finally paying off. After they got Phoebe back to normal, they could rescue Gunnar and then together the four of them could defeat Loki and avenge their parents.

He was tip-toeing down the hall. He hadn't realized how much longer it would take with Phoebe on his back. He was afraid he'd drop her or the guard would notice she wasn't in her room.

Where was Bryan? Why hadn't he called back yet? Then it hit him, the only reason why he hadn't responded. Loki got him. That had to be it. And that meant…he spun around. Loki was standing there. Slowly, he put Phoebe down on the floor. Loki barely cast a glance at her. Instead he walked straight up to him and struck him across the face.

"My, you have grown quite a bit since our last encounter have you not? And stronger too. But how will that help? You are still just a boy. A boy who counts on his strength to win his battles for him. But you are weak. Just like your father. Your ideals will not save you in battle. It did not save your father and it certainly did not save your mother. I will spare you the details of her death as you observed it. I remember you peeking in through the door to see why your mother was crying. Poor boy, you had to witness so much that night? How does it feel? Do you still hear the screams echoing in your mind? Do they haunt your sleep? Or is it more than that? Do they haunt every thought you have? Is it the only reason for you living? I can relate to that. We are not so different, Steven. Really, we are not. Think about it."

"I am nothing like you."

"Believe what you want to, Steven," Loki said. He brushed past him and picked up Phoebe cradling her in his arms, "She does look pretty when she is sleeping. She is beginning to look more like her mother now."

"Don't you dare touch her."

"Why would I do such a thing to my precious little daughter? The public would never believe it. However, they would believe that a couple of rebels broke into my home for the sole purpose of harming my child. That sounds like a rather good story, does it not?"

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't hurt her…"

Loki smirked, "Why lie to yourself? You know very well what I am capable of and you know there is nothing you can do to stop me."

Then with one hand he knocked him to the ground. Stevie felt warm, wet blood trickling from the side of his face where Loki had struck him. He tried getting up but Loki struck him down again and kicked him several times in the stomach, chest, back of the head…

"I would kill you but that would be too messy and the public would be upset at the death of a thirteen year old boy, even he were a rebel. I suppose I could imprison you. But that will not work out well either, will it? You will either escape or another agent will free you. There is no point in keeping you in my custody. But perhaps one day," he said as bent over and tousled his hair, "You may change your mind and choose to join me."

"Never…"

"Stevie? Stevie? Where are you?!

He turned his head. Loki had put Phoebe down so that she lay slumped on the floor. Bryan was staring at him wide-eyed and scared. He was only seconds away from hulking out. That would be bad…Bryan still didn't have control and he didn't have any more sedatives. They could all end up dead.

Suddenly, Stevie felt Loki take his foot off and step away from him. He stood up and ran to Bryan who took his arm and put it around his shoulder. Stevie was grateful for the help. His whole body ached, he felt dizzy and the blood stung his eye.

"Thanks…"

They stood there for a moment and without thinking they turned around and ran. Stevie turned to look behind him and saw Loki picking Phoebe up. Bryan tugged on his arm and they both rushed outside. It was still snowing.

They stood there for a moment in silence. Stevie's stomach twisted and this time he threw up.

"Stevie?"

"Yeah?"

"We should go home. You need medical help and you're not in any position to argue with me this time."

He nodded and let himself lean against Bryan. All he wanted to do now was sleep. He didn't even want to think about how the Director was going to react.

"The Director's going to be pissed."

Bryan laughed, "Yeah, he is."

"We're in so much trouble."

"Understatement of the century."

Stevie laughed. It was true. He'd almost rather be Loki's prisoner. That would be a lot less scary than whatever punishment the Director had in store for them when he found out. A lot less scary.

_(A/N: Yeah, so that ended up being much longer than I expected but you know how things work out with writing, you start out with one idea and end up with a totally different one. Oh well, what did you think of this chapter? Teenage Stevie? An older Bryan sans Peter? Phoebe? Loki's actions? Some pretty weird stuff, right? )_


	19. Chapter 19

_(A/N: It's good to be home. Disney was nice but it's nice to be back. One reason, of course, is to be able to finish this chapter. You know the drill; I own nothing that Marvel owns. If I did, this would not be fanfiction. It would be canon. Yep, canon. Anyway, thanks to everyone who commented or favorite/followed me. It means tons to me, and I love you all. Here is your gift, be it for Easter or Passover, Chapter Nineteen from Loki's POV. Enjoy!)_

The doctor hovered over the girl. Loki watched him with a look of feigned concern. The party had ended around an hour ago. He had bought Phoebe back to her room, laid her on her bed and left her with the doctor while he went back down to the ballroom to enjoy the remainder of the celebration. He had a few drinks, danced with a few women, and conversed with a few of the more powerful men he had appointed. He had not told them what had happened. There was no need. Not yet. Not until everything was done properly.

He had wished the doctor had taken care of the deed while he was gone. That would have made life easier, simpler. But the doctor had taken a lot of time to arrive at the palace and had needed to examine her, to make sure everything was fine.

"How is she, Doctor? Is she injured?"

"Other than being drugged she is quite fine, my lord. Completely uninjured. In fact, it seems like he went out of his way not to injure her."

He had known that. The boy would never have hurt her. He still had feelings for her. Romantic ones, it seemed. Perhaps he had read too many fairy tales as a child. Tales of knights saving princesses, tales of evil kings, and tales of brave but foolish boys…Yes, he knew them. He had read a great many to the children at night but kept to ones like "Cinderella" and "Little Red Riding Hood", ones that would not give them too many ideas.

"Are you positive, Doctor?"

"Yes, my lord. However, the sedative she was given was rather strong. She will be unconscious for a few more days. She will be very groggy after she wakes up, as well. I would give her a few days before she does anything strenuous."

"Of course .Can you also give her that treatment we discussed?"

"Are you sure? It is very dangerous…And…."

"You dare question me, your king?"

"No."

"Then do it."

The doctor hurried off to get his supplies without arguing further. Loki went over to the bed.

She did look pretty while she slept. Peaceful. Loki brushed away hair from her face. She had not been hurt at all. If one did not know of what happened, they would simply think she had nodded off to sleep before she had a chance to change into her nightgown.

He had counted on her to have at the very to have a cut or a bruise, something he could work with. Something he could use to convince the public that any member of the Rebellion was dangerous, unstable; willing to kill…Not that it mattered. Her "treatment" would fix that. Agent Cooper had given it as a back-up plan.

He was lucky that he had Agent Cooper. He had given him all the information he needed in order to make everything go his way. Like leaving the side door unlocked, for instance or leaving out a dozen or so photographs in his study. He had known they were coming. He had been prepared. With Samuel Cooper, he always would be one step ahead.

The doctor would help him stay one step ahead as well. Though he did not trust the doctor as much. But he was sure that like most Midgardians, a sack of gold could convince him to keep his mouth closed. The man had a family that he needed to provide for, after all. He could send his children to a more elite school, rather than the simple public one they currently attended or rather than them being sent to a city orphanage.

People were so easy to manipulate. Especially, children like Gunnar and Phoebe. He had so much control over their lives. For the past five years he had hardly let them make any decision on their own. He had picked out what they ate, what they learned and when they went to bed. They listened without question. They were his perfect little trophies always ready to be shown off. The public adored them. To the public, they were the perfect royal family, a king with a strong, intelligent son and a sweet, pretty daughter. No wife or mother but they did not need one.

"My lord?"

He turned and smiled, "Ah, Samuel. Or should I say Agent Cooper?"

"Well, my lord, it is my name."

"Yes. How could I forget? Come in."

"Thank you."

Samuel came up to the side of the bed, "She seems to be doing well. I told you he wouldn't harm her. He would never harm a friend of his, especially a girl. It just is not in his nature. He probably would have offered her his jacket once they were outside."

"Most likely."

"When will the doctor be back?"

"Soon enough. I am going to check on Gunnar. I trust you can look after Phoebe?"

"Of course, my lord."

"Good. When the doctor returns he will treat her. Assist him if he needs it."

"Of course, my lord, your wish is my command."

"Good."

He saw Samuel smirk as he left the room. The boy never questioned the orders he gave. No matter what they were. That was one of the reasons he had chosen Samuel as his spy. He knew that there was no possible way for Director or Agent Hill to suspect him. While Samuel was competent, calm and collected he knew Agent Cooper was immature and excitable. It would be hard to think that someone like that would be a double agent. He wondered if the thought had even crossed their mind.

The children liked him as well. To Gunnar, Samuel was an older brother figure. To Phoebe, Samuel was an object of affection. The boys of the Resistance were probably fond of him as well he would have made sure of that.

He went across the hallway. Gunnar was still awake sitting on his bed holding a book, not reading it. He looked worried.

"Father, is everything alright? I heard Phoebe fell ill…."

"She is under heavy sedation but she shall be fine. The doctor said she will awaken soon."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes. Do not worry, my son."

He ruffled his hair. Gunnar brushed his hand away, "Alright. Father…Is it true that a rebel harmed her? That he tried to kidnap her while she got ready for bed? I should have escorted there…Not stayed at the party…"

Loki put his arm around Gunnar, "It is not your fault, Gunnar. If you had been there it is very possible he would have used the sedative on you and taken Phoebe away. That was their goal. There was nothing you could have done. I am grateful that you are both alright."

"I wish I had been there...If I had not been busy at the party...If I had gone up with her…" he repeated.

He gave Gunnar a small hug. The boy seemed to need it. Normally, Gunnar refused most affection. He was a stoic boy. Even when he was younger, he was not the type of boy to give hugs. Loki never minded that. He had never been affectionate either as a child. It was different with Phoebe, who still expected goodnight kisses. He did not mind that. People expected that kind of relationship between father and daughter.

"You should go to bed soon. Do you want the servants to bring you anything?"

"I am fine."

"Good night then, my prince. I will see you at breakfast."

"Good night, Father."

Loki smiled, shut off the light and closed the door. It locked. He had locks on the children's doors in all the palaces. It stopped them from wandering around the halls at night. For the first few months, he had often found the children asleep in the same bed, huddled together like newborn pups. The servants had thought it was cute. He had found it merely a nuisance especially when Phoebe would wake up and instead of going to a servant would go to his bed chamber to ask him to read her another story or stay in his bed because she had another nightmare. It was easier to tuck her in, give her a mug of cocoa or a glass of water and know she would eventually fall asleep by herself. Luckily, she had stopped having nightmares after a couple of years. Of course, after tonight, he would call up Doctor Charlie again. Just in case.

Gunnar never had those issues.

Loki never understood how his brother's son could be so complacent. He had always expected Gunnar to be the challenge, not Phoebe. It must have been because Gunnar had not had to adjust a lot. He still lived in a palace waited on by servants who would bring him whatever he wanted and was educated by the best tutors available. He was still a prince.

Phoebe, however, had been doted on by her parents, gone to school and had spent her days tinkering with computers and pieces of metal. He had taken that away from her. Now that he thought about it, it made sense. But she had forgotten all those things now. Five years was a long time. She no longer suffered from nightmares. She no longer remembered her parents. She no longer remembered Stevie and Bryan. She had trouble building things, now. He had taken away her whole identity and had given her a new one. One where she was a princess. She had embraced it.

Everything was working in his favor. It was about time.

His private study had been relatively undisturbed. The beast's son had been careful. Only a couple of things were askew. The only things missing were a handful of photos. The handful he had left out for him.

Nothing that would be missed. He had never cared for the photos. He had only taken them as mementos. Trophies. Like the children. But now that he was king, he was too busy to take out the photos, smirk and gloat to himself. He had no need for the frozen images of a time that had long since passed. They held no value to him. And what was the saying, if you feed a stray dog, it will keep coming back?

Loki went to Phoebe's room. He had left Samuel with her long enough. Hopefully, the doctor had joined him as well. Her door was partly open.

The doctor and Samuel were not there. Loki stepped over to the bed. Phoebe was still unconscious, almost untouched .Except for her leg which had been broken and twisted into looking like a raw piece of meat. He had not expected them to go this far. But…

If this would not convince the public that the Rebels were dangerous people who needed to destroyed, nothing would. Some still regarded them as martyrs, heroes, people who fought for the greater good. But who can say that people who crippled a young innocent girl were heroes?

Then he would have a reason to attack. A father protecting his defenseless daughter, making sure the people who hurt her would not be able to do it again. Nothing wrong with that. He would be able to take them down without anyone questioning him.

He would call a meeting in the morning with the army and police leaders then he would call a press conference. He would call for the unconditional surrender of the Rebels. He knew they would not accept it, but after a little convincing.

And who would believe the boy when he said he was innocent?

Even if it were true.

No one would believe a father would purposefully harm his daughter. Or allow his daughter to be harmed.

His little trophy would be marred. Saddening. But people loved tragic stories. When Phoebe woke up, he would be there to comfort her, hold her. He would tell her what had happened but not to worry. He would take care of her. Be there for her while she recovered.

He should call the guards. Tell them how he had found her unconscious and injured, act panicked and worried. They would have no choice but to take his word. They would send would send for the doctor. He would act panicked when he saw what had happened. Eventually he would come up with a story for Gunnar.

But there would be plenty of time for that. He would come up with some sort of story for Gunnar, so the boy would not get suspicious. Perhaps he would tell him that he lied and Phoebe had been injured but he had not wanted him to worry. That would work.

He would call in a doctor, a new doctor, to treat Phoebe's leg. She would probably end up being crippled. She would need a wheelchair, a pair of crutches or a cane, perhaps a leg brace. He was not sure which but it did not matter. Any one of them would fit his purposes.

All he needed was a reason to take down the Rebellion. One the public would be able to understand, sympathize with. And who would not be able to sympathize with a little crippled girl, especially when she was their beloved princess?

He smiled to himself.

Perfect.

_(A/N: So…What did you think? Am I putting Phoebe through too much? Should I focus more on other characters, if so who? Questions, comments, concerns…etc? Don't be afraid to tell me in the comments. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long. My parents have no-laptops on vacation rule. I will try to get the next chapters out a little quicker. So keep checking your e-mails for chapter updates!)_


	20. Chapter 20

_(A/N: I'm trying to get back into the habit of posting once a week, instead once every two weeks or week and half. I've decided to post on Saturdays/Sundays. So look for new chapters during the weekend. Anyway, since I'm trying to get to the point, thanks for all the reviews and favorites, follows. Sorry, I haven't been thanking all of them personally. Life, you know. But to you guys, thanks a ton. Chapter 20 is from Maria Hill POV. Enjoy.)_

"What the hell were you two thinking breaking into Loki's palace? Did you drink stupid juice or something? Is that how you made such a dumb-ass decision? You have placed everyone here in unnecessary danger. You placed yourselves in unnecessary danger. You could have…"

Maria Hill put her hand on Director Fury's shoulder. He paused.

"Boys, what the Director is trying to say is that…" she stopped. There wasn't a point in continuing with the tirade, "Just…just…just go to your room. We'll discuss this later. Alright?"

All she got in response was a couple of grunts. They got up and went to their room. She knew they would go straight to sleep. Going to their room wasn't much of a punishment but it was the only one they could give them. It's not like she could take anything away from them.

She buried her face in her hands, "Nick, what are we going to do? What are going to do? What…we…we…"

She felt him put his hand on her shoulder. It felt warm and heavy. Oddly comforting. She moved it.

"Idiots," he muttered, "What the hell were they thinking…And where the hell is Cooper?"

"I don't know."

Personally, she wasn't crazy about Agent Cooper. She didn't trust him. Sure, he spied on Loki, he gave them good information, he made sure the kids were okay…That was probably the most important. They hadn't heard from the Doc for awhile, so they had to depend on Cooper for info on the kids as well as Loki's movements. Why they had sent such a stupid unqualified putz to be their spy, she wasn't sure. It pissed her off. How the hell could Fury have thought it was a good idea?

"You okay, Maria?"

She nodded, "Tired, sir. Just tired."

"At least, the boys got out alright…"

He was trying to make her feel better. It was kind of funny.

"They could have been killed. You saw Stevie's face. He'll be lucky if that doesn't scar."

Stevie had a huge cut on one side of his face. It had still been bleeding when they had come in. She had wrapped a bandage around it even though he said he didn't need it. What did a thirteen year old know anyway? He needed help. He was only a child.

"He'll be fine, Maria."

"THEY COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!"

"But they weren't."

Why did that even matter? It didn't matter that they weren't…It did. Of course she was happy they were alive. But, she wished that Fury could see her point of view; that although they were training the boys to fight, they still needed to be protected. They were still just children. Bryan still slept with his stuffed dinosaur. It had become more ragged and dirty but she would still see it tucked under his arm at night though she knew he would never to admit to it. Stevie slept with a small photo of his parents under his pillow.

They were still children. If their parents were still alive they would still be going to school and be having all the typical problems of adolescence. School, crushes, puberty. Gunnar would probably live in Asgard and visit Earth every once in awhile. Phoebe, Bryan and Stevie would be like siblings. Maybe, Phoebe or Stevie would have siblings of their own. That would have been something.

"You're right, sir. I should be happy that they got out alive."

"It was a damn stupid move on their part though. I didn't expect this out of Stevie, but it seemed like it was all his idea."

She nodded, "Yeah. What the hell was he thinking? That he could just swoop and rescue her like some knight in shining armor?"

Fury shrugged, "I don't know. He's a damn teenage boy. They don't exactly think things through. I know I didn't at that age."

"Good point there, sir."

It was a good point. She hadn't exactly made the best choices when she was younger either. There was a lot of sneaking out to parties, fake IDs, lying…Of course, it was what landed her with S.H.I.E.L.D. A lot of the other agents were the same way.

One night, she had snuck out to investigate a house where a murder had taken place. She had no idea, that it had been an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent murdered there. Fury had nearly killed her. Once he had realized she was just teen, (and after she had gotten a couple of good punches in) and a long explanation (and begging him not to call her parents) he had handed her a business card and told her to call when she graduated college.

Things had changed a lot since then.

Sometimes, especially now, she wished she had made a different choice. That instead of joining the 'force' after college, she had gotten a different job, met a guy and had settled down. It probably never would have turned out well. It was too late now anyway, she hadn't dated in years. The closest she had gotten to dating was that one night when the heater had broken and she had ended up in Fury's bed. They hadn't talked about it since. It was too awkward. She had tried to forget about it.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts.

"Excuse me? Director…Agent Hill?"

"Bryan, you're supposed to be in your room."

"I know, sir," he said and pushed up his glasses, "But I forgot to give you these. I found them and thought…"

He stuck out a handful of old photos and scuttled back to his room before either of them could say anything.

She watched as Fury shuffled through the photos. Bryan must have picked them while they were at the palace. Probably couldn't resist.

"Maria, you have to look at this one," he was smirking.

He handed her a photo. Four little children; three boys and one girl, barely toddlers were sitting in a bathtub full of water, naked and smiling. It was probably one of the funniest baby pictures she had seen.

She stifled a laugh, "Oh god….We're keeping this, right?"

Fury nodded.

"Good. Every kid needs one embarrassing baby photo."

"It's what their parents would have wanted, anyway. Tony would be using that one as blackmail."

She shuffled through the rest of the photos; a couple of school pictures, some newborn photos and random others, including one where Tony Stark and Phoebe were both fast asleep on the couch, snuggled together. She stared at it for awhile.

There was no way Loki had ever done anything like that. He probably had servants do everything for him. She doubted that he had ever tucked the kids in or kissed them goodnight or anything like that. She still could picture Phoebe as a frightened little girl during one of her first nights at the palace, begging for a bedtime story and Loki simply shaking his head, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind him leaving Phoebe alone in a strange room crying and confused.

But she was older now. Eleven years old. She wondered what Loki thought of her. It scared her to think that Loki might be taking second glances at Phoebe, to see if her body was beginning to change shape from a girl's to a woman's. And when it did, she had no idea what he would do…

If that had been is plan, he never would have shown her off as his daughter like he had for the past half-decade. He wouldn't have her playing ambassador, handing out sweets and coins to poor families and little children. Instead he would have locked her away somewhere, just waiting until she was old enough like in that dream she had. It still haunted her. Every night.

At least for now, she would be okay. Loki wouldn't do anything to harm her, that would ruin his image as a 'kind and gracious king' or whatever the fuck the media called him these days. He had worked too hard mess up now. Most people actually liked him. Within five years they had gone from hating him to practically worshipping him.

"Is everything alright, Maria?"

She nodded. It still threw her off whenever he called her Maria. She still called him 'sir' or 'Director' most of the time. She had tried calling him Nick but found it too awkward. So she had stopped though sometimes, she had to admit, it slipped out.

"Are you sure?"

She was sick of him asking that question over and over again, like she was some little kid who couldn't take care of herself and that she didn't know when she wasn't feeling well.

"I'm fine! Why do you always have to be so concerned about me? I can take care of myself. I'm a grown woman, Nick!"

She stood up and started walking to her room. Fury grabbed her shoulder. Without thinking, she punched him.

"What the hell, Hill?"

She ignored him, went to her room, locked the door and collapsed on her cot. How long had it been since she had slept in a real bed, ate a meal that hadn't been frozen or come from a can, or had a full night's sleep? Too long.

She could leave. But what good would that do? She'd be found, probably tortured and killed. Besides, Fury couldn't care for the boys on his own. She had to take care of them. She was basically their mother, now. In a way, her own mother would be proud of her. She finally had grand-children. Even if they were adopted and she was raising them with an older black man…If her mother wouldn't get a heart-attack from that, her grandmother certainly would have.

She hadn't seen any of her family in years, ever since she had joined. Contact was discouraged as it could place an agent's loved ones and family in danger. She hadn't even Googled them, so she wasn't sure who was dead, who was alive or who had married, divorced or had kids…Or anything like that. Sometimes she wondered what they were doing. She didn't care as long as everyone was okay.

She wasn't sure how long had passed when there was a knocking at the door, "Maria, get out of there."

"No."

"Agent Hill, get your ass out here right now."

"No."

She sounded like a stubborn teenager who had gotten into a fight with her parents.

"Maria. Come out, that's an order."

"Fine."

Fury was standing at the door. He had bruising around his eye and his nose was crooked, "Nice job, you assaulted your commanding officer."

"I'm sorry, sir."

He clapped his hand on her shoulder, "Good job. I mean it, Maria."

"Thanks."

The hand still was on her shoulder. She winced. She wasn't fond of people touching her. Fury seemed to take notice. He moved his hand and didn't say anything.

Despite that it was about four in the morning she and Fury sat down at the table, with mugs of the last of the coffee, without milk or sugar. It was thin, bitter and had a terrible aftertaste but coffee was coffee. They sipped quietly. Before, when the world wasn't ruled by Loki, she would eat her lunch as quickly as she could so she could get back to work. It was different now, how she would sit with Fury like they were old friends or even at times like some sort of married couple.

They were used to each other's habits, now. It was hard not to, after living together for five years. She knew that he liked his eggs scrambled, his coffee black, and his cocoa with little marshmallows (Actually, she wasn't sure if he was serious about that or not.) He knew her habits too. That she hated oranges, that she would eat anything with caramel in it, and other things like that.

It was odd knowing that her own boss probably knew more than any of her past boyfriends or even some members of her family.

"Well, I'd better get the boys. Their training schedule begins in ten minutes."

Fury shook his head, "Let them sleep in, for once. I don't want to deal with any whiny crap about how tired they are or anything like that. No good will come of training and besides now they know the minimum of what they're up against. Besides, I need a damn vacation and a day off from teaching the boys is the closest I'm ever going to get. Once Cooper comes back, try and see if you can get anything out of him then…take the rest of the day off. Do what you need to…Just don't…just don't do anything to get yourself killed."

That was probably one of the kindest things he had ever said to her.

"Yes, sir."

He headed off massaging his temples. Maria slumped over in her chair. Maybe she could get a bit of rest before Cooper came back. She could hardly deal with his bullshit when she was fully alert but she felt like if she didn't get some sleep she would end up strangling that skinny neck of his. She closed her eyes and laid her head back.

"HEY! DIRECTOR! HILL! DIRECTOR! HILL!"

Of course as soon as she tries to sleep, Cooper decides to barge in. He always seemed to come in at the worst or most inconvenient times. She hated it.

"Cooper…Just…make it quick. For once, okay? No bullshit or anything like that. Got it?"

He nodded, "Yeah…"

"Then go on!"

"Okay."

He took a breath and Maria waited for him to begin. Once he was done telling her whatever he needed to, she could go to bed. Besides, what could he tell her that she didn't already know? What could he possibly say that would surprise her or Fury? They already got the story from the boys. She didn't want to hear a repeat. All she wanted to do was go back to bed for another hour or two. She just wanted to sleep.

_(A/N: So, I think this chapter was a bit more on the lighter side than the past few. I think it's a good change of pace. What did you think of it? Funny? Exciting? Tell me. Post a review or heck, message me if you want. Once again, thanks to all the reviews, favorites and follows on my previous chapters that I haven't gotten back to. I love you all.)_


	21. Chapter 21

_(A/N: Chapter 21, people! I'm trying to pick up the pace again, so I'm sorry if this chapter goes to fast. As usual thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorite, followed etc. Especially to TinaFrostDahMuffinBurger who is still here and still reviewing my stuff. Also, I passed 85 reviews! Not bad. Not bad at all. Thanks everyone! So this chapter has Gunnar as the main POV. Bet you were all expecting Phoebe, weren't you? Enjoy!)_

Gunnar stared at his sister. She was sitting in a wheelchair, her crippled leg hidden underneath a half dozen blankets. She was staring out into space. It had only been about a month since the incident. They were still in the City Palace. His father had thought that it would be dangerous to move back to the main palace though Gunnar believed there had to be another reason. Was it not safer to move his sister away from the Rebellion? The main palace was farther away from the public eye as well. It would allow her to recover in peace.

Besides, he hated staying in one place for so long. He wanted to go back to the main palace, ride his horse or practice swordsmanship or sorcery. He just wanted to do something other than sit around doing nothing.

He fidgeted, "Maybe, we should go into the garden, sister. The fresh air and sunlight will help you feel better. Besides," he said with a wink, "Last time I checked, Samuel was out there and he was worried about you."

He knew his sister liked Samuel and that the mere mention of his name was usually enough to get Phoebe to move to whatever room he was in. It was perfect.

Her cheeks turned red, "Really?"

"Yes. Shall we go out?"

"I do not know…"

"Come on, little sister. He knows about your injury. He knows that you are confined to a wheelchair. Why hide it?"

She sighed, "I…I…I do not know. I suppose we can."

"That's the spirit!"

He did not bother to call in a servant to escort garden at this palace was small, and since it was winter, the trees were bare and most of the flowers had not yet blossomed. It was still pretty. Samuel was sitting on a chair across from Father at the far end of the garden sipping drinks and talking.

Father.

Damn. He would send them both back inside. There was no way to avoid him. Gunnar had hoped that he would be in a meeting, with one of his concubines, or busy doing paperwork or bossing around servants. He had hoped that Phoebe, Samuel and himself could have had a nice private conversation.

Father walked toward them

"Children, what are you two doing out? It is cold and Phoebe, dear little one, you need rest. Being out in the cold will over-exert your body. It is not healthy for you. You will catch your death out here."

He started adjusting Phoebe's blankets.

"I just wanted…" she said, "to…go…outside….and…"

"And?" he prompted.

"Gunnar said that Samuel was out here and that he wanted to see me," she said quickly as though it were one word.

"Is that so?"

Gunnar saw her blush and nod. Father grinned widely, "Gunnar, would you leave your sister and me alone for a moment?"

He nodded.

"Thank you. There is something I must discuss with her."

Gunnar wondered what he would want to talk to Phoebe about. Samuel waved him over. It was not quite proper but Gunnar did not mind. He took the seat across from him. Samuel poured him a drink. Gunnar sipped.

"How is everything, Prince Gunnar? Anything new? Any fair maidens you are currently pursuing?"

He always asked the same question and his response was always the same. Gunnar did not know why he did it, but he enjoyed it.

"No."

"Really? I don't believe it. You? You're a prince. Surely, there is some girl."

Gunnar shook his head, "No."

"Oh, well. They will still be there when you are older. Have fun then, Gunnar. Don't tie yourself down to any girl. Take advantage of it."

Gunnar nodded. He supposed that Samuel meant that when he was older he should woo girls for fun. He had never done that before.

He never wished to. He had always been too busy with his studies. Though he had had many lunches and dinners with the daughters of important officials, ambassadors, senators, and other leaders Father had appointed obviously hoping for a match. None had been successful.

He liked Samuel. He was like an elder brother, something he had always longed for. He knew it was not Samuel's responsibility to be his confidant, after all he was a busy man, and probably did not want to spend his time with a thirteen year old. Perhaps, though Samuel felt the same kinship he felt and enjoyed it.

The city was pretty. Samuel had thought it was a good idea that they both get out of the palace for awhile. Gunnar had never really had a chance to see the city, except from the windows in the carriage or the occasional public appearance where he would only sit on his throne and wave. He had never visited any of the shops or restaurants or met any of the people.

The people who were on the streets were staring at them with wide-eyed admiration. Or was it fear? He was not sure. He waved at a few who were standing in a small group. They waved back. Tentatively.

This happened several more times.

"I think, my prince, that they are simply surprised to see you without protection."

He nodded. He supposed that made the most sense. It must also be surprising for them to see him simply out. They had probably never seen except for on the television before. It must be odd for them.

He walked over to a young family of four. The two little children hid behind the parents' legs, clinging onto their father's pants.

"Hello."

"Prince Gunnar," the father said quivering and bowing low, "How do you do?"

"I am well and you?"

"We…we are very well, thank you for asking. We are actually here to visit my parents. We always try to visit around this time of year…But things have been…busy. This is the first time since the children were born. They're very excited to see their grandparents for the first time."

"Is that so? How old are they?"

"Five and a half. Their names are Harold and Maria."

"Interesting…"

"Well, you see…there was this musical…called the "Music Man" and the main character's last name was the same as mine. My wife and I," he gestured to the woman who standing quietly, holding her daughter close, "met during a production of it. So we named our son after that character. Our daughter was named after my sister…whom I have not seen or had contact with in a long time."

"I am sorry. I hope you and your sister regain contact soon. I cannot imagine what I would do if I lost my sister."

"Yes," the man said, "We hope your sister has a quick recovery."

"Thank you."

Of course, he should have realized that she would have been bought up.

"Well, I should not keep you from your reunion."

Gunnar left the family standing at the curb. He felt a knot in his stomach.

"Are you alright?"

"I feel ill."

Samuel nodded, "Then we should go back."

They trudged on. Gunnar had not realized how large the city was or how far they had walked. Samuel talked to distract him. He told him some of the history behind and even pointed out some of the old buildings.

"That one. That ugly looking one with the flat top. See that? Do you know what that used to be? Stark Tower."

"Really?"

"Yes. You know all about it, right?"

He had heard the stories, of course he had. Out of all the Avengers. Stark had one of the worse. He had been rich, so rich in fact, that he had built himself a suit so he could 'save' the day because he wanted to. Most of the time he had destroyed the city. He was an arrogant, selfish rude, womanizing drunk . Most importantly though, Stark had been the one responsible for the deaths of Phoebe's parents. It made him angry. He did not even have the decency to give Phoebe's parents a proper death. Instead, he had raped her mother. Raped her. Probably while her father watched, Stark had killed her mother first and then her father. He had tried to take Phoebe as well. But luckily, Father had gotten there to rescue her. If he had not rescued her…Phoebe probably would have been forced into some lowly trade where people would have exploited her and her body. Or Stark would have kept her. Father had told him that Stark had an insatiable appetite when it came to women and would not have let the fact that Phoebe was a little child get in his way.

"Your father is thinking about knocking it down. I must say I agree with him."

"Yes, me too."

"He wishes to replace it with a statue of himself."

Of course he did. Gunnar nodded again and his stomach gave another lurch. Had he eaten anything strange today? No. Not that he could remember.

"The Rebels probably would not like that. Would it not cause them to rise up?"

"I do not know. Even though, I am with them constantly I do not know how they would react. If they knew of it before hand they would probably try to rescue some of his old items. But what do you honestly think about your father's idea?"

"If Father wishes it, it will be. It is not my place to question him and his wishes. I do not think it right to keep it up. It is an insult to my sister to keep up the home of the man responsible for her birth family's murder. Father may feel free to do with it what he wishes. I do not care."

"You do not care about what your father does?"

"Will you just shut up about my father?"

He stomped off. Why was he asking him all these questions? He thought that this walk was a chance to get away from his father, from his sister, from the palace. He was sick of being treated as though he were an incompetent child. It was not as though he were broken. He was intelligent and gifted in the art of sorcery. He practiced near every day. He would study for hours.. It was like he could not do anything right or good enough for him.

Meanwhile Father lavished Phoebe with praise, attention and affection. Gunnar was sure he favored her. Phoebe really didn't have any talents, though. She painted, wrote poetry and did all the "lady-like" things Father wanted her to but she had no talent in them. How could he do such a thing? It was always all about Phoebe…And now that she was stuck in a wheelchair, the attention would be on her even more. Father would continue to devote all his attention to her.

He trudged down the street. He was fairly sure he was going in the right direction. It was snowing, so he couldn't look at the sky and get the directions from the sun. He enjoyed astronomy. It was his only hobby that Father approved of.

Stupid.

He wanted to please him. Show him that he was capable. That he was not a little boy. And could take of himself. He was thirteen years old. Almost fourteen.

He started crying. He was not sure why/He knew he should not be. Men did not cry. Princes did not cry. He should not cry. That is what Father told him.

His mind started racing again. Going out had been a mistake. He should just go home. If he was out any longer, he would get in trouble. And Father's punishments were not something he looked forward to. He had no idea where Samuel was. He did not care. He could make it back to the palace on his own. He did not need anyone's help.

Once he was king, he would not require anyone's help. Yes, he would have cooks, servants and advisors but he would make decisions on his own. He would be in charge. He would be able to make decisions on his own, for once.

He stumbled down the street. For some reason his mind kept fogging up and he could not think. He felt as though he were drunk.

That's when it hit him.

Samuel.

The drink.

The rebels.

It all made sense.

Samuel….Samuel was spying for the Rebels…not against them. He must have helped them…Helped them break into the house, injure Phoebe…and now him. Samuel must have drugged his drink or…Shit.

What was he going to do?

_(A/N: Dun dun dun….So where do Samuel/Agent Cooper's actual loyalties lie? What will happen to Gunnar? What about that odd family he ran into? What did Loki want to say to Phoebe? Find out next week in the exciting episode of Avengers 2.0!)_


	22. Chapter 22

_(A/N: Thanks everyone, my story just hit 90 reviews! Thanks a ton also to Lollypops101 for beta-reading this chapter for me. If anyone else wants to help me, send me a PM. I would really appreciate it. And thanks to everyone else who reviewed, favorited, followed etc. etc. You people are awesome. But that's enough of that. You just want to read, right? Now presenting Chapter 22 told from Bryan's POV. )_

Bryan stared. He couldn't believe it. He and Stevie had put in so much work and Agent Cooper just waltzed in, literally with Gunnar over his shoulder. The Director was more than pissed. But there was nothing they could do now. If Cooper took Gunnar back unconscious, Loki would be suspicious. None of them could take Gunnar back, for obvious reasons. But there was no doubt that Loki would be even more suspicious if Samuel did not return or returned without Gunnar.

Loki would figure it out eventually. Until then, there was nothing they could do but wait. Like rats in a trap. Like ants…

"Boys, I'm putting Gunnar in your room. I want one of you to keep an eye on him at all times. Take shifts."

The Director hefted Gunnar onto his shoulder and walked out of the room. Agent Hill was giving Cooper what he and Stevie had dubbed "The Eye of Satan". They crept out of the room. Neither of them wanted to the results. It wouldn't be pretty.

"Cooper's screwed. Hill's been looking for a reason to get him in trouble since he came."

"It didn't help that he tried to hit on her," Bryan said.

Stevie nodded, "Yeah…Let's just go keep an eye on his Majesty, okay?"

"Sure."

Of course, the Director had put Gunnar on his bed. Not Stevie's. Stevie would mind too much. He had changed since the incident. He spent even more time in the training room (like if that was even possible) and had been edgy. He wasn't the same.

Gunnar's wrists were in cuffs attached to the bars of bedframe. He could probably break out of them rather easily, though Bryan had a feeling the sedative used on Gunnar was similar to the one Stevie had tried to use on Phoebe. It worked slower if it was ingested.

He sat next to Stevie on the empty cot. He tried not to look at his scar. It was hard not to. He was lucky. He had not been injured. If he had…it would be him who was prisoner. It would have been him. Probably. He couldn't bear to think about it…he would have probably been put in a small room, no windows…too small..too dark

He took in a deep breath and exhaled. Thinking about things like that made him antsy. It was not healthy.

"You okay, Bryan?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes. He started to hum. He felt something on his lap. It was Peter, his old stuffed dinosaur. He held it tight.

"Thanks, Stevie."

"Yeah…no problem."

Stevie got up and started pacing. He was always so restless. Ever since the incident, Stevie hadn't been sleeping. Bryan could hear him at night tossing and turning in his bed; each little squeak of the mattress would ring in his ears. He had tried asking the Director if he could have a room of his own. He had said no.

He knew there was a spare room somewhere. Not his recovery room but a spare bedroom. He had heard the Director and Hill talking about once or twice. It had been meant for Phoebe once she got older and would probably be more comfortable by herself than with boys. That was stupid. How they were still talking about her like she would come back and be willing to fight. Gunnar certainly wouldn't be willing when he woke up. More than likely he would try to kill them.

"How long do you think it's going to take for him to wake up?"

Bryan thought for a moment, "Not for a while…It usually takes me half a day to fully wake up and even then I'm drowsy for another day or too. Then again, he ingested it…So it might move out his system faster."

"I'm going to the training room then."

Stevie left the room. Bryan sighed. He could have at least asked if he didn't mind staying alone .

"Guess it's just you and me, Peter."

He flipped the toy around so it was facing him. It was missing an eye now and its fabric was dirty and beginning to tear. He should ask Agent Hill if she could repair it…She should know how to do this sort of thing, right? Didn't all moms?

He lay back on the cot. He could hear the thumping of the punching in the training room and the

Director's pacing and Agent Hill yelling at Agent Cooper.

"Thanks to you, we are all going to get killed. It's part of your job to make sure Loki doesn't find out where we are, not to give him a reason to come knocking at our door. I don't know what made Director Fury hire you but I swear if it were up to me you never would have been hired. And unfortunately, we can't fire you because then you'd be a threat to every agent…"

"Every agent?! What's that like six people? Including you and Fury?"

"Cooper…"

"You say you're fighting Loki but you haven't done a thing. You hide here like rats afraid to go out. At least I did something. At least the boys tried to do something. So they got hurt…You can't protect them forever you know. You do realize that, right? You can't make sure that they're gonna be protected forever…I mean seriously…You are nothing but a bunch of cowards."

Coward? They were cowards? He held Peter closer. He was sure he wasn't a coward…He lived every day with a monster inside him.

"AGENT COOPER! GET BACK HERE! GET BACK HERE."

Bryan hugged Peter tighter. He was getting worked up again. He was already feeling his thoughts slip from his mind. How had his father mastered control of his thing so early? He still couldn't do it. It frustrated him.

The punching sound continued. The only thing good about that was that it was steady. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

He wasn't sure what the Director was doing. Shouldn't he be doing something?

"COOPER!"

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

His mind was starting to race. No. No. Not now….Not now.

THUMP. THUMP.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING COOPER?"

No. Hold it in.. Gunnar was in the room. He could be …Hold it in. Hold it in. God damnit why couldn't he hold it in.

THUMP.

"IF YOU LEAVE , COOPER.."

THUMP. THUMP.

Why was everything so fucking loud?

THUMP.

"DON'T MAKE ME SHOOT."

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

"IF YOU DON'T COME BACK HERE COOPER, I WILL SHOOT."

Something was going to happen soon. He was going to…going to…He couldn't.

No thinking. He needed to…He needed to..Think.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

Think. Think. Think, you bastard. Don't let him win. Think.

THUMP.

Think

"COOPER!"

Think

THU-

Gunshot.

"YOU CRAZY BITCH!"

That's when he lost control.

He was not sure what happened next. He was not in control. That's all he knew.

Then blackness.

"Bryan. Bryan. Bryan. Bryan. Wake up, sweetie. Bryan. Bryan."

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He kept his eyes closed

He didn't want to get up. He was too tired.

"Ten more minutes….Please."

Everything ached. His head was splitting with pain. He tried sitting up but something heavy was stopping him.

He opened his eyes. He was in his "special room." Agent Hill was standing over him holding a glass of water, "Drink."

The water helped clear his head. He could think again. But he still couldn't remember what he had done.

"Is everyone okay?"

"You beat up Cooper pretty badly. Bastard got away. But the rest of us were fine. Even Gunnar. He slept right through it."

He nodded.

He ended up falling asleep again not too long after Agent Hill left the room. They let him out the next day.

The Director looked stressed when he came to get him. More so than usual. Bryan had assumed it was because of Gunnar.

"How's Sleeping Beauty?"

"Not sleeping anymore. He's on a hunger strike. Actually works out pretty well considering someone couldn't control himself and destroyed most of our canned food supply."

So he had only destroyed the food. Food was replaceable. Not easily but his biggest fear was destroying the Helicarrier. If that got destroyed where would they live?

"Sorry, sir. Was anything else damaged?"

"Oddly enough..no. You pretty much just decided to beat the shit out of Cooper. Good job."

"Oh…"

That was right. Cooper and Hill were fighting. There had been a gunshot. But she hadn't been hurt.

Thank God. He was always scared he'd hurt someone.

Stevie, Agent Hill and Gunnar were sitting at the table. Bryan blinked. The Director gestured for him to sit. There was only one free seat. He took it. Gunnar glared at him. He was still restrained by a pair of handcuffs.

"Why is his majesty here?"

"Because," Stevie said, "The Director said so."

"The reason Gunnar is here is so he can learn the truth. Cooper has probably made it back to the palace by now so we probably don't have a long time before we have an army bursting through our doors. So, why don't we make this short, sweet and to the point? Gunnar, we want you to join our team."

To his surprise Gunnar laughed, "Is that what this all about? Is that it?"

"Yes and no. We would like you to join our group but we know you won't unless you have a good reason. We're here to give that reason to you."

"Go on."

"You are not who believe you are. Your father was Thor Odinson of Asgard. He was an Avenger. Same as your sister. Your so called 'father' has been lying to you for the past half-decade."

Gunnar just stared at them. Bryan twitched.

"Am I supposed to believe that? After all you have done to my family? I know what your group is capable of. My sister may not ever be able to walk again!"

What did he mean by that? They hadn't done anything to Phoebe. Not that he knew of. Had Stevie not told him something that he should have? No. Stevie looked just as confused as he was.

"What do you…"

"You should know exactly what I mean. When you...invaded the castle, you injured my sister so she wouldn't be able to escape. You hurt her…You crippled her, put her in a wheelchair…You hurt my sister."

"I WOULD NEVER HURT HER!"

The Director grabbed Stevie who looked as though he was about to grab Gunnar's neck and throttle him.

"You were the one? I thought if it were anyone it would be the beast," he glared at Bryan, "Then again, you are all animals. You harm innocent people and have allied yourself with some of the most vile people in history."

Bryan wanted to yell at him. Loki had been responsible for the deaths for the deaths of thousands…hundred of thousands…and many survivors lived in fear and poverty. Bryan saw them. Every time he had to run to the black market to get something he would see whose worst crime used to be jaywalking were selling contraband just to put bread on the table for their family.

Other times, it was to buy something that their family desperately needed but couldn't get like medicine.

It was terrible. The other day, he had run into a panicked looking woman who was trying to find an extra inhaler for her son. They were visiting family and had forgotten the inhaler at home. He convinced one of the vendors to sell one to her. It was a stupid move in some respects. He had to tell the vendor that he'd get him something good to take care of the cost. He didn't have anything to give…

"CALL HIM THAT ONE MORE TIME, I DARE YOU!"

Bryan blinked. Stevie really was trying to strangle Gunnar now. The Director and Agent Hill were trying to restrain him but Stevie broke out of their grip and had jumped right on top of Gunnar.

"HOW DARE YOU CALL BRYAN A BEAST! HOW DARE YOU! YOU STUCK-UP BASTARD! TAKE IT BACK!"

"Never."

"HE USED TO BE YOUR FRIEND! YOUR FRIEND! WE USED TO BE FRIENDS!"

"Stevie," Bryan said, "It's okay…It's okay…"

Stevie got up, "No. It's not. He has no right to…Wait…the photos!"

He rushed off.

Gunnar sat back in his chair and glared at him, "What are you looking at? Do you honestly believe that we would be or have ever been friends?"

"Stevie doesn't lie."

Gunnar gave a snort.

Stevie came running back in and shoved the photos into Gunnar's face, "These prove nothing. These could be any children. And it is rather disturbing that you should have a photo of naked toddlers…"

Who didn't have a naked picture of themselves as a baby? Then again…he wasn't exactly one who was awkward when it came to nudity, considering that every time he lost control, he alos lost his pants.

"That's you, though! And that's me and that's Bryan and that's Phoebe."

Gunnar shook his head.

Stevie showed more pictures to Gunnar, "This one!"

"That's my sister…Is that…"

"Her dad."

"She looks a lot like him."

"Yes."

"She has a teddy bear like that at the palace…"

Bryan knew what he was talking about; the Director had a little bear in his room. Bryan had never been sure where it had came from. When he was younger, he thought the Director slept with it at night. Like he slept with Peter.

He slipped out of the room and into the Director's. The bear was still sitting on the desk with same frown it always had. Its bow was beginning to fade and its fur was worn in some places. He grabbed it and started to run back out.

There was a crash.

Not again.

Another crash.

Not now.

He peeked out from behind the door. This time Gunnar had escaped his binds and had knocked Stevie onto the floor. The Director and Agent Hill were both holding up their guns. Both were ready to shoot.

"Calm down, Gunnar," the Director said, "We do not want to have to shoot you. We don't want to hurt you."

"Like you harmed my sister?"

Everyone fell silent again.

"Gunnar…Don't you get it? We didn't hurt her. We couldn't have hurt her. We would never hurt her. And even then, why aren't you hurt? We could have just as easily hurt you when you were under? Why didn't we?"

That was Agent Hill. She was trying to negotiate with him. It always worked with him and Stevie.

"How do I know you haven't tried? How do I know that you set your beast upon me? You left him guarding over me and he nearly killed me."

Had he?

He couldn't remember. Gunnar must be talking about when he hulked out, as the others called it while watching over him. Yes, he could kill someone technically kill someone in that state but he hadn't yet.

He did everything he could to stop from going into that state but sometimes like the night before,

he couldn't help it. He just couldn't. He turned when he got angry, upset or stressed.

"You had me drugged!"

"Cooper had you drugged."

"Do not lie to me. You made him do it."

"No, I did not."

"Do not lie to me, you pathetic quim."

Bryan jumped out from behind the door and tackled Gunnar, "Take it back. Take it back."

He was losing his mind again. He was so full of anger. How could Gunnar call Agent Hill that? How could he insult her? She was like a mother to him. She was like his mother! She used to tuck him in at night and she was always the one to be there when he woke up after a fit. She was nice, and kind and smart and she was certainly NOT a quim…Not a quim…Whatever that was…

He could feel his muscles ache and his shirt tearing. This time he was aware of what was happening. He knew he was changing.

"Get off me…beast."

"Stupid…boy-god…thinking lies…Take back. Deserves to be smashed."

He knew what he was doing this time.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Stupid boy.

Stupid stupid boy.

He smashed him against the wall.

He threw him. Tossed him.

It just felt like the right thing to do.

It was the right thing.

Gunnar was bad. BAD!

And Hill was good. Very good. The Director was good. Stevie was who tried to hurt them was bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

BAD!

That's all he could think.

Bad.

Bad.

Bad.

Bad boy-god.

Bad god-boy should be smashed. Like father…

SMASH. SMASH. SMASH.

SMA-CRRAAAASH!

_(A/N: And that concludes this week's installment of Avengers 2.0. As usual, what did you think? What happened to Samuel Cooper? Whose side is he on? What will happen to Stevie? What will Gunnar do?. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for next week's chapter. *Laughs evilly* Thank you. Have an awesome week, everybody. )_


	23. Chapter 23

_(A/N: Another week, another chapter…Thank god, my teachers have laid off the homework. Otherwise I don't know how'd I get this done. It's exhausting. As usual, to everyone, thank you bunches, especially to Lollypops101 for beta-reading this chapter. Anyway, this chapter is a little longer than normal. Sorry about that. It's from Phoebe's POV. Enjoy.)_

"BREAKING NEWS! THE REBELLION'S BASE HAS BEEN DISCOVERED! I REPEAT: THE REBEL'S BASE HAS BEEN DISCOVERED! KING LOKI HAS MOUNTED AN INVASI-"

The television clicked off.

"M'lady, you should not watch this. Your body does not need any more stress at the moment. You should be resting. How about we go to the library?"

Before she could even answer, the servant grabbed a hold of the handles and started wheeling her down the hall. No point in arguing. She wouldn't win. They were following her father's orders. She couldn't argue against any of her father's decisions.

None of them….He only had the best intentions for her at heart…Right?

She hoped he was. After, his talk the other day, her stomach had been feeling tight, knotted, queasy…unsure. She had never really questioned any of her father's actions until then. Yes, she _liked_ Samuel. But, she wasn't sure if she _loved_ him.

He was resting now, in one of the guest rooms. He had been badly injured while at the Rebel hideout. But she had been assured that he would survive without any permanent injury. He was lucky. She had not been told exactly what had happened. No one ever told her anything.

The servant left her in a little nook in the library and left her to her own devices. If she was smart, she would have found a way to sneak in a radio or little television in. To see what was happening. But she couldn't. She wanted to though.

She always thought she could build one…if she knew how. Her father had been an engineer…That had to mean she had some sort of talent with building. It was in her blood, right? She remembered building when she was little…with..what were they called? Eggos? No. Pregos? No. Jell-os? No… LEGOs! That was it!

She used to love them. Then for some reason, one day they simply weren't in the playroom anymore. She remembered Doctor Charlie, her therapist, telling her how it wasn't proper for little girls and it disappointed her new daddy a lot, and didn't she want to make her new daddy happy?

She had. She still did.

She was scared of disappointing him.

She had seen what had happened to people who disappointed him.

She didn't feel like reading.

That's why she didn't want to go to the library. She had come here nearly every single day over the past month. She had to have read around half the books in here by now. Most of the others were off limits. A few times, she had tried to sneak one of them down for a peek but she had been stopped…

But the palace was practically empty.

She could probably read one without getting caught.

Hopefully.

If only she could reach them.

She started to manuvered her chair to the nearest bookcase. If she could use a table to steady herself and put as little weight on her leg as she could then she should be able to…She lost her balance and landed on her leg. Her bad leg.

It hurt. It hurt.

Hurt. Hurt. Hurt.

She couldn't get up. Her wheelchair had rolled out of her reach.

Damn…

"Princess? Are you in there? Princess?"

Samuel…What was he doing out of bed? At least, he wouldn't tell on her…Wait, what was she thinking? She could lie! She could just say that she was reaching for one of her usual books and slipped out of her chair, that a wheel got caught on the rug or something…She could fake it.

"Yes, I am. Can you help me?"

"Of course, just a minute…What happened?!"

He hurried over to her.

"I…I…I fell," Phoebe said.

"Let me help you."

He gently lifted her, sipping one arm under the crook of her knees and the other around her back and set her in the chair.

Phoebe winced. Her leg throbbed. She wasn't sure what exactly the Rebel boy had done to injure it.

"Do you want me to get you some pain reliever?"

She nodded.

He went out.

Was this what it was going to be like? No. It would be worse. In three, four, five, six years…things would be different. It scared her. She had no say in the matter.

"Here you are."

She took the medicine quickly.

"Thanks…"

It was too awkward.

He smiled at her. He didn't look to badly injured. Lucky bastard. No. No. She should be glad. She should be happy that he wasn't hurt.

"I suppose your father has explained the situation to you."

"Yes."

"You can see the ring…If you want."

She shook her head. She just really rather not think about it. She was only eleven! Of course father had told her that it wouldn't happen until a year or so after she started her cycle and that even then Samuel would wait until she felt she was ready but it was highly important that she do this as it was her duty as a princess and that it was not so bad because there were plenty of horrible men out there. Oh and, she would still be royalty, of course, and be waited on hand and foot so there really wasn't any reason to worry her pretty, little head off.

He was fidgeting. He seemed as unsure about it as she was. It made sense. Why would as 26-year old want to marry an 11 year old. Even if she was a princess.

Her leg twitched in pain again. The medicine hadn't helped.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. You?"

He smirked, "Just a little concussion and bruises and things like that. I wasn't expecting the attack but I was prepared anyway. Little beast tried to kill me. Boy can't keep his temper under control especially when I insult his dear 'mommy."

"I don't understand…"

"The main part of the Rebellion, the ones responsible for your leg, are actually related to the Avengers. You know all about the Avengers, I assume."

"The basics."

He nodded, "There's should be a book here that's plenty informative….Where is it?"

Phoebe watched as he walked around the library staring at the bookshelves. Why does he want her to know these things? So they can have something to discuss over dinner? Wouldn't he be able to quit once they married? He wouldn't need to work, her father would provide them with all the money they would need…

"Here it is!"

He handed the book. It was a thick, hard covered and even had a flimsy plastic cover. It was from the days before…That wasn't bad…she had read plenty of novels from that time…but this book…She didn't even understand why her father owned this book.

" 'I Am Iron Man: The Story of the Man Behind the Machine'. By: Tony Stark," she read aloud. Out of all the books…he chose the one her parents' murderer wrote? About himself? What could she possibly learn from the writings of a mad-man? It probably went against all of her father's teachings. She shoved it back at him, "I refuse to read this."

"It's just a book. It can't hurt you," he placed it back in her lap.

"No. It's Rebel propaganda."

"It's a book."

She looked at him, "What is so important about this book that you want me to read it?"

"I want you to gain knowledge. If we are going to be…married. I want you to know all that you can."

So…it was that. He thought she was stupid! He thought she was some ignorant, spoiled little girl! He thought she didn't know any better. She threw the book at him. It missed. She grabbed her water glass. That missed too. It shattered. She started to wheel herself out, purposely running over Samuel's toes. She didn't care. It wasn't like he could do anything.

"Phoebe," he said and grabbed her chair and turned it around so she was facing him. He thrust the book back into her hands, "Read this. Just read this…I want you…I want you…to know the truth."

What truth? What the hell was he talking about? There were a million things she wanted to ask but they were interrupted. The door started to open and Samuel grabbed the book from her lap. He hid it under a cushion.

Her father entered.

"I was told you were both in here. I thought you should know that we have penetrated the hideout of the Rebellion. I believe we can rescue him before he is harmed. The Rebels will be taken as prisoner and tried for their crimes. Phoebe, you should go to your room and rest. Doctor's orders. Samuel…"

"My lord… You should go back. Let me take her."

"I suppose that would be alright. Thank you," her father said. He gave her a quick kiss on the head. "I am glad you seem to becoming more comfortable with this situation," he whispered, "I told it would not be so bad."

When he left, she noticed Samuel dig the book from beneath cushion. He tucked in between her leg and the side of her chair and wheeled her down the hall back to her room. Her leg was still twitching in pain.

She hated the fact that she needed help. She had never hated it before, but now that she actually needed the help offered to her, she didn't want to accept it.

"Would you like to rest in your bed?"

"Whatever."

He lifted her onto her bed, covered her with a thin blanket and handed her the book. She was actually curious now. What was so important about this one book? She had to know.

"I'll leave you to read…"

He closed the door behind him. She was alone again. Her leg felt better now, lying flat on the bed. She should really mention that to someone…She opened the book and began to read. It began with a dedication.

"_I dedicate this book, not to myself, as this entire novel is about me anyway but to three very important people; one is my father, Howard who is no longer here but was a great man, second is my wife, Pepper who has always been there for me and has saved my life many more times than I would like to admit, third is my daughter, Phoebe who is without a doubt my greatest and best creation."_

Tony Stark had a daughter…named Phoebe…It could just be a coincidence. Yes, Phoebe was not that rare of a name, was it? And of course, her father had been an engineer, he could have easily named her after Stark's child. It would make sense.

She wanted to stop reading there. Already, it was giving her an uncomfortable feeling in her tummy. But she flipped the page and plodded in on through the book. She skipped some chapters, like the one on his childhood and another on his teenage years. One chapter she found interesting was about when he was prisoner before he became Iron Man.

"_I'll admit it. I was scared. It was probably the first time in my life that I was genuinely afraid of dying. I have been afraid many, many times since but…that was the first. I was afraid of dying. I still am. Who isn't? My hope is that when I die, I die doing something important…like protecting someone who means the world to me."_

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah…This guy wrote like a martyr…She skipped again…to the end.

"_You know what? I am not the sole person responsible for Iron Man's existence. He never would have even popped into my head if it weren't for one man…Obediah Stane. If it weren't for him trying to kill me, well…I never would have had a reason to create Iron Man._

_So, thank you. Thank you, you lousy bastard._

_Thanks to you…_

_I AM IRON MAN."_

She put the book down and stifled a laugh. This had to be a joke. The book…It had to be a joke. Obviously there was nothing useful in this book. It was the diatribe of a mad man. She put it back under her pillow. She lay there for awhile wondering…

What was the point of the book? Had she missed something? Why the hell did Samuel want her to read it?

She was about to get the book again when her father came in.

"One of the servants said they found shattered glass in the library and Samuel said you threw your glass at him. Did something happen? Is everything all right?"

"I…I…I..was upset…and confused. Now that, there is a plan…I guess…I am…just…"

"I understand perfectly, my little one. The next couple of years will be a very confusing to a young girl like you. Your body will start changing and…"

"Father. Must I?"

"As I have told you before, your marriage will not take place until a year after you begin your cycle. You have plenty of time before then to adjust. Remember, Samuel has promised not to do anything until you feel ready. You do not even have to be in the same bed, if that is what you wish. But, Samuel and I have already discussed it. He thought it was a fine idea…"

"Did he have any say?"

"He said that he thought it was a fine idea."

"Whose idea was it?"

"Mine. Where I come from arranged marriages are the norm. It would be disrespectful of me not to honor my heritage…"

"So he didn't have any say?"

"I told him about my idea and he agreed. He was apprehensive but I told him I could not think of another man who would be as good as him for my lovely, beautiful, sweet, little girl," he kissed her forehead.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"You are a child. You should have no part in such decisions."

"But…"

"No buts, Phoebe. I am your father and my decisions are final. You are a very lucky girl. Samuel is a very smart, kind and handsome man. You have no reason to be unhappy. No more complaints. Is that clear?"

She nodded.

"Good girl. Now rest and do not worry."

"Will Gunnar be home soon?"

"Yes. Now rest," he kissed her head again and tucked her in, "and do not worry your pretty, little head about anything."

"Okay."

"Good girl."

He kissed her head again and left.

How was she lucky? She lost her parents when she was a little girl, she had been crippled and now her father was going to marry her off…How was that lucky? How? She supposed he meant that she could have been married to a horrible man or a poor man, or never be married at all…in context that made sense.

She dug out the book again. A small slip of paper fell out. It was a photo. It was of a family. A man, a woman and little girl. The little girl was wearing what looked like a school uniform with a white collared top with a blue jumper over it, and was holding a teddy bear…She smiled. She vaguely recognized the girl as herself. She had seen plenty of similar pictures around the palaces. She must have been around five when this was taken…The man and woman…they must be her parents. But what was it doing in this book?

Why hadn't her father shown this to her?

Why?

She held it close.

This was the only thing she had left of her parents. Her father had never really talked about her birth parents. Occasionally he would say, "Your parents would have been very proud of you" or things like that. The only real connection she had to either of her parents was that she was allergic to strawberries. Just like her mom.

She wished she had some sort of connection with her dad…But she had nothing… She wondered what he would have done. Would he have forced her into a marriage? Would he have made her give up LEGOs? Would she been following in his footsteps? Or would she be free to whatever she wished? What was the photo doing in this book?

There had to be some reason why her family photo was in the book….

She couldn't ask father. That would be the stupidest move anyone could make. She couldn't even imagine the punishment he'd give her or Samuel…

Maybe there was something else in the book that would help. She flipped through it again, and again and again. Nothing else fell out. She tried again. And again. Nothing. There had to be something else. Something.

There had to be…

She looked down at the book.

"_When I found out I was going to have a daughter, I had no idea what to do. To be honest, I didn't want a daughter at first. I was scared of what she'd become; one of those spoiled rich, bitch, preppy girls. And of course, she's only three so there's still time for that…but I don't think she will._

_Pepper and I had an agreement. If she was going to have a son I'd choose the first name and she'd choose the middle name. If it was a girl she'd choose the first name and I'd choose the middle. _

_If I had chosen the name for our daughter, Phoebe would probably be Antonia or Antoinette instead. But, I like the name. I considered giving one of those names to her as a middle name but I decided that Anthony would be better. Phoebe Anthony Stark has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?_

_I hope she follows in my footsteps. You know; show genius at an early age, graduate MIT summa cum laude before the age of eighteen, become CEO with a little superhero gig on the side. Hopefully, she'd skip the whole drunk playboy phase though. Then she'd find a nice guy, marry him, settle down, have a kid or two of her own and carry on the Stark legacy. _

_She's already showing signs of genius. She spends all day with her LEGOs and other building toys. She loves computers. She loves action figures too. She has a whole set of Avenger toys that she always plays with. She loves Iron Man, though right now, her favorite is Thor. (I think it's the hair. She thinks it's pretty.)_

Thor…Thor wasn't an Avenger! Thor hadn't agreed with Father's rule but he hadn't been an Avenger. Thor was Gunnar's father…That would mean…It made no sense…She was so confused…Had everything been a lie?

She sat in her bed for awhile, quietly thinking, trying to figure out everything. She couldn't. She didn't want to open the book again. She wasn't sure what she would find.

She began to cry.

Why did Samuel have to show her that damn book in the first place? What did he want her to do? Or was he trying to help her? Was he trying to tell her something about her parents? Or something else?

She wasn't sure.

The only conclusion she could reach was one she didn't like and refused to believe…It was that her father was…Iron Man.

That just couldn't be true.

It didn't make any sense.

Not to her.

It shouldn't make sense to anyone.

The only hint that they were related was that her name was the same as his daughter. It wasn't like Phoebe was an uncommon name though. It was just a coincidence…But the idea that Thor was an Avenger…No wonder this book had been banned.

"_I know I didn't have the best relationship with my dad. I don't want to just drop my daughter off at a boarding school the first moment I can. I'm going to be a good dad. I'll take her trick-or-treating, go to her dance recitals and take her to the office with me. I'll let her work with me in the lab. All that stuff._

_I'll have some rules though. She won't be able to date until she's 16 for one thing. I would like to think she won't even think of boys until that age but some of her best friends are boys. In fact, a few of the Avengers have kids. All boys. They all get along. They're the next generation. That'll be something. I'm picturing an epic battle on prom night. Or the city getting destroyed because they're arguing over whose taking her to homecoming. Something like that._

_I've started making a suit for her. Just in case. It's purple. I'm calling it the Iron Maiden."_

Later that day, Phoebe felt uncomfortable in the garden. Her leg still pained her even though now it was flat rather than bent…Father had mentioned getting a brace to straighten it. She was still worried about Gunnar…Ands he and Samuel were there alone. He was pushing her wheelchair as he walked. It had been her father's idea. He wanted them to "bond." She wanted nothing more than to get out, and back to her room. They were silent for awhile.

"Tell me about the Rebellion."

"Well…the part I am spying on…is small. It is made up of the last vestiges of the Avengers which is to say; the Director, a man named Nick Fury, his right-hand woman and the sons of Captain America and the Hulk. They're both around your age. They believe in what they're fighting for. They believe in it one hundred percent. They won't give up until they win or they're dead."

"Yes."

"Who else was a member? Of the Avengers"

"Iron Man, of course…There was also two assassins…they married each other. Never had kids. No powers. And though your father denies it, his own brother joined them as well."

"Gunnar's father… was an Avenger…Gunnar's father was Thor…"

She was trying to make sense of it still.

"Yes."

"And me?"

He slipped something into her hand. It was a memory stick for a computer.

"Everything you need to know."

She put it in her pocket.

She'd look at it later. When she was alone.

"Thanks."

He took her hand and kissed it.

Things were changing. She knew that once she looked at whatever was on the hard drive, nothing was ever going to be the same again.

_(A/N: So? So? So? Lots of stuff in this chapter. So, Phoebe is very, very close to figuring out who she is. She know whose Gunnar, really is. But what about Samuel? What do you think? Which side is he on? What about the engagement? And how do think Phoebe will react when it finally hits her? Stay tuned for the next chapter!)_


	24. Chapter 24

_(A/N: Holy crap. 102 reviews! Thank you so much, everyone! I can't believe it! Many many thank to everyone especially to i-love-tea-and-coffee who left the 100__th__ review. Many thanks as well, to my beta reader lollypops101 for being so patient with me. You're awesome._

_I apologize for this chapter being so late. Because of the delay, I decided to make it longer than usual. I hope you enjoy it. It's from Director Fury's POV.)_

_***From this point on, this fanfiction will take into account some of the events of Iron Man 3 but not all. There are NO SPOILERS in this chapter. So read without fear, ladies and gents.***_

They were safe.

They had escaped the attack on Helicarrier by Loki's army. It had been brutal…They had lost the remainder of the agents they had: the boys' teacher, a therapist who had been there to replace the Doc, who had died of a heart attack, and a homeless kid they paid to do errands for them. But the boys were safe. That was the important thing. The boys were safe. So was Maria. Thank God.

"Are you sure this is safe, sir? Won't this be the first place Loki looks?"

"It's a good place to rest until we can find a new base."

It was. Stark Tower had been abandoned for the past five years. It was the only place left where they could hide without risking any civilian lives. For maybe a week, one month tops. Loki would find them. Eventually.

Right now, he would probably be too busy making a show over Gunnar. He'd keep it under wraps for a couple of days, and let Gunnar recuperate while trying to figure out what would make a good story for the masses. Once it was made public that Gunnar had been attacked as well, the people would want blood and Loki would use it as an excuse to attack to them. That way, when they were killed, they would be seen as criminals rather than martyrs.

They should get out before then…escape the city…go somewhere…and wait until the boys got stronger…and try again.

Everything was covered in dust. Nothing had been disturbed.

Evidently, even black market thieves had been apprehensive to steal from here. They could have been scared of what they could have found…That they could be killed. They would have thought that Stark had the whole place protected and they would be blown to bits if they had tried to break in…Tony had to have some stockpile of weapons somewhere. Especially after the whole ordeal…Or would he…He had to have something they could use.

"Are you okay, sir?"

"I'm fine, Maria."

He started pacing.

The spot where he had found Tony's body was covered in dust. He remembered thinking how he would have preferred to find Phoebe's body too, all curled up and sticky with blood. That had been stupid. She was alive. Alive was better. That meant they could get her back and on their side.

"Are you sure?"

"Last time we were here, there were two dead bodies…It's just kind of creepy being back."

Thank God, they had found a way to dispose of the Tony and Pepper's corpses. He couldn't stand to think what would have happened had they left the bodies here to rot.

They both still deserved better than the funerals they had gotten; dumped into a furnace, their bodies burned and the remains dumped into the Hudson.

"Where are the boys?" he asked.

"Asleep."

"It's four in the afternoon."

"They had a long morning."

"Good point. Where are they sleeping?"

"Phoebe's old room."

They had taken the floor. The bed was bare. They had stripped it of the comforter and pillows and had created a little nest on the floor. Bryan was cuddling with his toy dinosaur. He had insisted on bringing it along. The boy was eleven…did he really need it? He probably would have had a fit if they had left it behind. Stevie had rolled himself into a ball, clutching his knees against his chest. The fetal position. They both looked much younger than they were

Maria ruffled Stevie's hair, "Why don't we let them get some rest?"

"Yeah."

He was exhausted. Maybe, he thought, he should take the boys' lead and sleep. He sat on the couch and lay his head back. Just a few minutes wouldn't hurt anyone. He could use the rest.

When he woke up, the sun was beginning to rise. He had slept all night. And on the goddamn couch. It was worse than the army surplus cot back at the Helicarrier. Everything ached. He stood up and stretched trying to get the cricks out of his back and neck. How hard would it had been to get a couch that was actually comfortable to sleep on? There had to be times when Pepper had kicked him out of the bedroom…You'd think he would have invested in a decent sofa.

He checked the other rooms to see where everyone was. The boys were still fast asleep in their makeshift nest. He left them alone. He found Maria in the master bedroom, she had knocked down the blanket and had fallen asleep without even taking off her boots. She looked so peaceful…

He gently shook her shoulder.

"No…ten more minutes, Mama. I don't wanna get up yet."

He gave a little laugh despite himself, "Come on, Maria. It's time to get up."

"Papa, let me sleep. It's Saturday."

"Maria."

"No, Pablo. Get out of my room. "

He tried to remember her file. She had a brother. That had to be who she was talking about.

"It's not Pablo."

Before he knew what was happening, Maria had kicked him in the crotch and pinned his arms behind his back. Her knee was jammed into the back of his neck.

"Maria…do you think that you could possibly move your…"

"Sorry, sir," she said surprised and released him, "Natural reaction."

"It's times like this that I start wonder why Romanoff got into the Avengers instead of you."

He never would have actually let her join. Romanoff had been much better qualified for the Initiative. Maria was no master assassin but she made a hell of a good second in command. She had his trust. He wouldn't have chosen anyone else. He was damn lucky she stayed around this long.

"Very funny, sir."

"I was being serious."

There was no food left in the tower. He should have realized this earlier…They were going to need to leave the tower in order to find some. Shit. Why didn't he think of it earlier? Why didn't he think to bring goddamn food?

Now, he and Maria were going to need to go to the market, buy food exposing their faces to world. Someone would either report them for a reward or follow them back to the Tower or see them exiting the tower or…a million things could go wrong. Great. Just fucking great.

He pinched the bridge of his nose

"What is it, sir?"

"We don't have any food."

"So…you're saying that…now that we have a hiding spot, you want us to go out into the public eye?"

"We aren't going to survive very long without food will we?"

She huffed, "Fine I'll go."

There was no way he was going to let her go out alone. He knew his face would be plastered all over the news as the leader of the Resistance and it would be hard for him to blend in. But, it was dangerous for a woman to be alone. Even one like Hill. He had been to the back of the market and had seen the young women and children who were about to be put on a stage and sold to whoever had enough cash.

They left the boys in the tower. It was safer for them there.

By the time they got to the market, it was open and bustling with people going about their own business. No one paid them a second glance. They were all too scared of people recognizing them. Honor among thieves, right?

Fury kept his arm around Maria's waist. It wasn't a sign of affection, more of possession. They did this every time they shopped. This way it was clear. Nobody was to bother her. Otherwise, they would have to deal with of them ever commented on the arrangement. And they had grown used to it.

Only this time, Maria seemed uncomfortable, her kept eyes shifting back and forth. She was tense. Anxious. She squeezed his hand.

"Everything okay, Maria?"

"Sir…"

"Maria…" he said.

"Never mind, Nick."

"Okay, Maria."

He tightened his grip protectively and she clung close to him. She was never like this.

The food area was always calmer than the others, nobody really bought food here unless they were looking for something that was hard to find like alcohol, soda, decent meat and out of season fruits. Fury had no idea what they sold in normal supermarkets, now. It didn't matter, as long as someone was willing to buy it, people would sell it.

"Okay, buddy, what will it be today? The usual?

"Yep."

The vendor gave a nod. He handed him four small grocery bags, "That's going to be forty-five bucks per bag, unless you got some gold pieces, in which case it'll be twenty per…What'll it be?"

The prices had gone up. He dug into his pocket. He only had fifty. Enough for one bag of food. Food that was meant to feed one person for three or four days…It would have to do…He'd just go hungry. Nothing he hadn't done before

"Just one then…"

The vendor gave him a look and grabbed three of the bags. He yanked the bill out of his hand, and gave him his change, "Next time, buddy check your wallet before you buy. I got other customers to deal with."

They walked away. Maria glared at him for a moment and then her eyes darted back around. It seemed like she was nervous about something.

"You okay?"

"I just…I need…I need tampons."

"Now? Do you really need them now?"

She shot him a look.

Fury dug back through his pocket and handed her the change he had gotten from the food vendor. She headed off on her own. That was another one of their unspoken agreements.

He took the time to look at one of the other booths way in the back. There was only one other customer there. Technically, three. A man and his two kids, neither of whom couldn't be any older than five.

Fury pretended to look at some of the other wares.

How long did it take to buy tampons?

He didn't want to have to stay here any longer than he had to. For some reason, the fact that the guy would bring his two little kids to the market bothered him. Did he not know how dangerous it was? Or did he have other plans for them?

"Look, all I need is some medicine…I'll pay you later. I swear. I just the medicine for my wife…She's pregnant and she really needs it. She could die…Please…I'll do anything."

The guy was practically on his knees. He seemed desperate.

"No money, no meds."

"Please…"

The two children were just standing there, in thin little coats. From the looks of them, they had to be twins. They both had the same eyes and faces though had thick, dark hair that was pulled into pigtails while the other had a shaggy mop of reddish hair. A girl and a boy, respectively.

They were staring at him and whispering to each other. Finally, the girl managed to push her brother in front of her.

"Mister, are you a pirate?"

"Yeah, are you a pirate? Cause you have an eye patch! Do you have a peg leg too?"

The guy turned around and immediately turned pale, "I am so…sorry…They don't know when…when…when to…keep quiet…They're…They're six…Harold. Maria. Apologize. Now. It's rude to ask strangers personal questions. Say that you're sorry."

Fury waved it off, "It's fine…I have two kids. There's no need…They're all like that when they're young."

A look of relief washed over the man's face, "Oh, okay…Are you sure?"

"It's fine."

The man sighed again, "Okay. Again, I'm really sorry. It's just been…a very stressful…couple of weeks."

"Everything will be okay. But you should get your kids home. My boys are eleven and thirteen and I still wouldn't bring them here…If you need medications, go to the booth with the blue awning all the way down to the right. Tell the guy in baseball cap that Nick sent you. He should be able to get you what you need."

The man's eye widened, "Wow…thanks. Thank you so much…Thank you….Thank you…How could I repay you…"

"Just don't bring your kids back here," he craned his neck and saw Maria waving furiously, "I have to run…My girlfriend…"

"I understand perfectly. Go ahead. I should probably get the twins home soon, anyway."

"Bye, Mr. Pirate Man!"

"Bye bye!"

Fury gave a small wave and hurried back over to Maria.

"Nick…We need to go. Now," She grabbed his arm and started dragging him out.

"What's wrong?"

"We should just leave…I don't want to be here any longer."

"Maria, what's wrong? You've been acting odd all morning."

"I'll tell you when we get back…Just…never call me your girlfriend, again. In public. Ever."

Fury nodded. It wasn't until they got back that he noticed that she hadn't bought any tampons.

There wasn't any noise coming from the boys' room when they got back. They were probably still asleep. Fury checked out the groceries; a box of crackers, three cans of soup, some canned fruit, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of jelly and some powdered couldn't believe that he spent forty-five bucks on it. It probably would have been cheaper to go to the regular store and buy the cheap, mass-produced crap that everyone else did. Of course, the minute they did, they'd be caught and arrested, tortured and possibly killed.

Fury found himself wandering around the tower. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. He just felt like he should be searching for something. Tony would be the type to be prepared for this. He would have left something for Phoebe. To help her out. About a month before he died, Tony said he was working on a special project. It had to be here. This is where Tony and Pepper had wanted to raise Phoebe. In New York City. There had to be something. Why couldn't the stupid son-of-a-bitch given him a hint or hell just told what he wanted him to do.

Great...If he were Tony Stark, where would he hide something he was working on? Or would he hide it at blueprints, those he would hide. But where? Where would he hide the blue prints? Flash drive. Definitely a flash drive. He would also have a back-up. But…where?

Fury hurried over Tony's room and started digging through the closet. He tore clothes from their hangers, and tossed them to the floor. Where was it? Where was it? Where…There it was! A safe. Like the type parents bought their ten year old sons to keep their allowance in. Classic Tony. Everyone expects him to do one thing, he does another.

It was a simple safe. Fur opened it within a minute. There wasn't much inside. A wedding DVD, and another DVD that documented the first few years of Phoebe's life, a couple of hand-drawn pictures, a small bundle of money (Fury put that in his pocket) some photographs (including the bathtub one.) a copy of his autobiography, a flash drive and a note.

"Fury,

I figure if anyone will find this, it will be you. I mean who else would think that the Invincible Iron Man Tony Stark would hide his valuables in a safe designed for a ten year old? And who would think that my valuables would consist of scraps of paper, DVDs and a single flash drive. The money's for you. You need it more.

Take good care of Phoebe for me. You know the rules; her bedtime's 8 o'clock, she can't eat strawberries, she is not allowed to have any caffeine after 2pm, and there's no dating until she's thirty…Unless it's one of the boys…We're all kind of expecting it. Then she can date when she's eighteen.

Thanks for everything,

Tony

PS. That flash drive might be the key to fix everything this time.

PPS. Tell Phoebe that I love her."

Fury put the flash drive in his pocket, leaving the DVDs, photos and drawings. Better to let the other memories rest in peace. It was the most important. Like how Howard had left him in charge of the films. The ones that saved Tony's life.

Howard would be proud of Tony. He always had been proud of Tony, he just had never been good at showing it. Hopefully, if there was such thing as an afterlife, they would have made up by now and now the both of them were busy talking and bonding. They were probably both yelling at him right now, for being an idiot and knowing where to look.

"Why do you Starks have to be so damn cryptic," he muttered, Maria! Get in here!"

She hurried in, "What?"

"Is there a laptop anywhere around here?"

"I don't think so…"

"Then go out and get one."

He hated to go to the same place twice in one day. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He hurried back to the market.

"Hey Nick, I gave that family you sent over the medicine they needed. Looked like they really needed it. Little girl had the same name as your girlfriend. Maria. What do you think of that? What can I get you today?"

"A laptop. Nothing fancy. The cheapest one you got."

"I'll see what I have."

"Thanks."

Fury felt relieved. At least, the family was okay. He hadn't noticed the girl's name. Probably a coincidence. What had the boy's name been? Harold….Funny combination…Harold and Maria… especially for twins. Girl looked like she took after her dad…Boy probably took after his mom then…Or who knew. Did it really matter?

"Here ya go. That'll be seven hundred fifty. Anything else?"

"No. Just keep an eye for the family for me. Make sure they're okay."

"Sure…Someone's got a soft spot, eh?"

Fury didn't answer, he just gave him the cash and went back to the tower. He set up the laptop in a room away from everyone else. He put in the flash drive.

A bunch of files started popping up. Fury clicked on one but quickly closed it. Tony still looked at that stuff? He clicked around more. Was this Tony's idea of a joke? There was nothing here. No information…How was that possible? There was no way Tony would go into all this trouble and leave him a useless hard drive.

"Sir, you need to see this!"

He closed the computer. Maria was standing at the door.

"What?"

"You just have to see it for yourself. The boys found it."

"They're up?"

"They were exploring…They found some more food…Coffee…Hot cocoa… Instant noodles…Some frozen stuff that doesn't seem like it's too spoiled. So that's good. Did you find anything on the flash drive?"

"Porn."

"Well, what the boys found might disappoint you then…"

"Very funny."

" Sorry, sir. Just follow me, sir."

Now that she was back in the tower, she seemed much more relaxed. He had no idea what had made her so jumpy in the marketplace. She was a private person and despite the fact that they had worked together for years and he knew her life story from her files, he still didn't really know what made her tick. Their conversations had rarely if ever, gone beyond work. Even now it was, "How are the boys?" or "What's next on the schedule?" or "What's left to eat?" Everything focused around defeating Loki. Anything else was just wasting their breath and time.

"You feeling better now, Maria?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad. You seemed a little out of sorts earlier today."

"Everything is fine."

"Sure?"

"Yeah…"

"Cut the crap, truth"

"You saw that family…with the little kids, right? I think that might have been my brother. It looked like him. It sounded like him. There's no reason why it wasn't him… I can't believe it. What the hell is he thinking bringing kids there? And now with us hiding here… He's in danger! What if he had seen me? Or tied to talk to me? If Loki finds out I have a brother who has kids, who the hell knows what he'll do?"

Fury shrugged. He knew her well enough to know that if he told her about her brother' and sick wife, she'd try and do anything to help him. Most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were like that. Extremely loyal and protective. Willing to do anything to protect what they cared about. That was why they were required to cut off all contact with their family once they joined. It kept both parties safer.

Hill had been younger than most when she joined, She had managed to finish college early and soon as she did, applied for a position like he had asked her to. Most other agents had military training, a graduate degree or a number of other things under their belt before joining.

He remembered when he had first met her that night she had snuck into the house of the dead agent's. He had thought she was the assassin returning. Especially after she attacked him; a half dozen punches, one kick to the crotch, and a can of pepper spray. Once he realized she wasn't an assassin and she realized he wasn't a murderer, she begged him for twenty minutes not to call her mother. He didn't.

Years later when the time came for him to choose a new right-hand man, someone who could take his place, in case he died, he hadn't even thought twice about it. Maria was one of the few agents who could actually think for herself. And who didn't constantly kiss his ass looking for promotions. In fact, she was practically the only one who had ever been willing to back talk him. And if they couldn't stand up to him, how the hell would they ever stand up to anyone else?

"Where is this thing the boys found?"

"Basement."

"There's a basement?"

"Yep."

What other secrets had Stark kept? What else was had he wanted hide?

"What do you think happened to Cooper, sir?"

Fury thought for a moment, "Probably having a feast or getting a medal or something…He did 'find' our hideout. He was just waiting for the right opportunity to attack us and he found it. We should have never trusted him in the first place."

"I want first crack at the little bastard."

He smiled, "There's the Maria I know. I was wondering if she'd come out today."

"Stop it, you sound like my father…." she stopped in front of a door, "Here we are. The boys found it while exploring when we were gone earlier. It was locked but they managed to get in by using some of Phoebe's hair. It could only be opened by using Stark family DNA."

"Where did…Do I want to.."

"There's a market for everything."

That was one image he didn't need. The boys were keeping secrets of their own. They were growing up…That was going to be to a fun talk to have. Real fun.

The room was huge and filled with every suit of armor, every piece of equipment, every computer…that Stark Industries had ever designed or created. There were copies of all the Iron Man suits, including the War Machine, the Patriot Armor…and even a smaller suit, one that looked like it was designed for a child. It was only half-finished.

"JARVIS?" he said, "You there?"

Nothing answered.

"JARVIS?" he asked again.

Still nothing.

Probably had been disconnected. Or maybe he'd only answer to Tony or Pepper. Or maybe after all these years he simply didn't work anymore, the time breaking down and eating away at his parts. Or broken. Either way, it didn't matter. JARVIS was dead.

"You seriously need to see this…"

Maria grabbed his arm and led him to other side of the room to a huge machine. Fury couldn't even begin to identify what it was. All he knew was that it was bigger than anything else Stark had ever built…

"Holy…crap. Who knew that Stark could keep a secret like this? What is it anyway?"

"No idea, sir. I have absolutely no idea what it is or what it does or why it was built. The boys said it was covered by a tarp and they were really curio…"

"HEY! I GOT THE TV TO WORK! ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS PLUG IT INTO A POWER CELL! DIRECTOR! AGENT HILL! WE CAN FINALLY WATCH TV! ISN'T THAT AWESOME?"

Maria gave a laugh, "Our boys are so smart, aren't they?"

"Yep. Only the best and brightest are allowed here."

Maria gave a laugh, "And to think, these two are…"

"Responsible for saving the world? Yeah…"

"DIRECTOR! WE GOT A SIGNAL!"

The boys had set themselves up in front of a television set that had indeed been plugged into a power cell and somehow had gotten a signal. They were watching a fuzzy picture of some cartoon from when they were younger. He let them be, and started thinking of how they were going to survive the upcoming weeks.

It would be easier if they all stayed down here. Tonight they could gather blankets, clothes, food from upstairs and bring them down. There was less of a chance that they would be discovered…Even Loki couldn't break in…probably.

Along with the supplies, and blankets, they also managed to drag down a couple of mattresses. The boys shared one. They didn't care. They climbed on their mattress, pulled up the blanket and huddled together with Bryan still clutching his toy dinosaur. They fell asleep.

Fury offered the other mattress to Maria.

"You take it. I'll sleep on the floor. Just hand me a blanket and a pillow."

"You take the mattress. I'll take the floor. I don't mind. It's better for my back. You spent all last night on the couch."

"I don't want you…" he paused, "I feel bad making you sleep on the floor, Maria."

"Why, sir?"

"You take the mattress. That's an order."

She glared at him, "I've realized that whenever you want me to do something for my own good, you order me to do it. Yet, if I remember correctly, the reason I was chosen for my position was because I didn't always listen to you."

"Just get on the damn mattress, Maria."

"There's the Director Fury I know. Where has he been?"

"Haha…Very funny."

"I thought so….Sir, are you comfortable with sharing? There is plenty of room for two and I honestly do feel bad about making sleep on the floor and…and…and… I…I trust you, sir."

It had been awhile since he had been in a bed with someone else. There had been that one time when Maria's heater had broke and she had crawled onto his cot beside him, in order to keep warm. They never talked about it.

"Can you move over?"

"You're the one hogging the blanket, Maria."

"I'm cold."

"Well, I am too."

"Fine."

"Share the blanket."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Maria."

"Goodnight, Nick."

She fell asleep. He lay awake staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. There was too much on his mind.

Hopefully, they wouldn't be found…Even if they were thought to be hiding here, Loki wouldn't find them hidden in this secret room. He wouldn't think to look down here. They just had to be careful. If they were careful and weren't caught, they might actually be able to survive. They could actually win this…They had a place to stay, a safe place, a place to train and now…they had weapons. Maria could go back to carrying a gun everywhere. So could he…They had sold them long ago to pay for food, water, medicine…Whatever it had been it didn't matter, now.

They could make it. They could actually make it. Maria curled into him mumbling something in her sleep. He let her stay there. He didn't want her to wake up. It must have been a long day for her. It must have been hard for her to see her brother and not be able to speak to them. She must have been so surprised to see that she now had a niece and nephew. But, he knew the real reason why she panicked. They were another two people Loki could use against her. They would be in danger if he found out. He'd keep an eye on them for her. It was the least he could do for her.

He was already looking out for her and the boys. What did difference did another few people make? Besides it would be easier to protect the, now. They had more weapons. And ammo. And food. And water. And shelter. And money. In the morning they could go through everything, and sort out what they needed. They were going to be okay. All thanks to Tony.

Oh, Tony Stark…that arrogant son-of-a-bitch, that bastard, thanks to him they were going to survive. He could kiss him.

_(A/N: So, was the wait worth it? Or not? Too long? And what do you think of the hiding place? I thought it would be good to focus on the Fury/Maria relationship than on the kids. I want to write more chapters that focuses more on the other characters and their relationships in context with the plot but we'll see how it goes. There probably won't be a new chapter up for Memorial Day weekend. I apologize. I'll try to have it up on the weekend after that. Thanks a ton! Keep reading!)_


	25. Chapter 25

_(A/N: I decided to go for a little change of pace with this chapter. One, there's a TIMESKIP! I know a lot of you have been waiting for one. Two, the POV is from a 'new' character. I thought it was time to explore Samuel Cooper's mind. It was nice, exploring a new character and his motivations…As usual thanks to my beta-reader Lollypops101 and everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorite etc. Please enjoy!)_

This was as not how he pictured his wedding. He had always wanted a small wedding. At the church he used to go to every Sunday. During the autumn. He pictured his bride, smiling from behind her veil as the pastor asked him if he wanted to take her as his lawfully wedded wife. He didn't picture it being broadcast on television, at a palace, in the middle of summer. He never pictured himself marrying a girl who was less than half his age, who looked more scared than anything else.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Samuel Cooper gave a nervous glance to the side. Loki gave him a nod and he took a deep breath. He lifted the veil. Phoebe looked at him nervously. She gave a little smile. That was another thing, he thought he was done kissing girls in braces when he was a sophomore. The kiss was quick, soft and unmemorable.

The party lasted all night. By the end, his head was aching from the loud music and alcohol, Gunnar had gone off with a group of girls, and Phoebe was sitting alone, watching the festivities.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, let me help you."

He handed Phoebe her cane. She hobbled unsurely. She still used her wheelchair a lot but Loki had wanted her walking for the wedding. Loki was very big on public appearances. When the kids were younger, they always had to be well-behaved, well-dressed, never talk back and never fidget. When Gunnar had returned from being in Rebellion custody, Loki had only waited until Gunnar was able to hold a lucid conversation before telling the press what had happened and scheduling an interview.

That had been nearly two years ago.

They hadn't heard anything from the Rebellion in that time. He knew they weren't dead. He had a good idea where they might be hiding but it had been years, he figured they must have moved to a new place by now. There was no way they were still in Stark Tower…

"Well, I should let you two be on your way. Have a good evening, my little one," Loki said and kissed the top of Phoebe's head.

"Good night, Dad."

"Samuel, take good care of my daughter. I entrust her care to you."

"Thank you, my lord."

Loki just nodded, "Of course. I am very sorry that Gunnar could not see you off. But you know how boys are at his age, Samuel. He does send his regards, and wishes you the best on your honeymoon."

"Thank you, my lord. And send Gunnar our thanks as well."

"Of course."

Why the hell was Loki thinking when he decided that he and Phoebe should marry? What the hell had gone through his mind? He buried his face into his hands. Why did he ever get himself into this mess? Why? Why couldn't he have just stayed at home? Why did he ever feel the obligation to…

They arrived at the hotel. They would stay there for the night, and then they would go to a vacation home for a few weeks and then would be sent off to tour the world. It was nothing more than a publicity stunt. He and Phoebe would be forced to act the part of a happy newlyweds.

"Do you need help taking off your brace?"

She nodded, sat on a chair and stuck out her leg. The brace was a horrific looking thing that wrapped around her entire leg, forcing the twisted, mangled limb into a single stiff line. It looked like a torture machine. She was only allowed to take it off to bathe but, of course, had been given permission to take it off for tonight.

"Thanks," she said and massaged her leg.

"Does it hurt?"

She glared at him.

He should really be more careful before he spoke. Otherwise he'd get himself into big trouble.

Well…bigger trouble than he was in now.

"Well, it's your wedding night, what do you want to do?"

"Sleep. I'm tired."

"You don't even want to watch a movie or open some presents?"

"I want to go to bed. I am tired and I want to sleep. I don't care what tonight is…I am exhausted and I just do not care."

"Okay."

He sat back in his chair. Phoebe hauled herself over to bed, refusing his help. He was secretly proud of her. Ever since he had given her the book and hard drive, she had started doing more things for herself and had even convinced Loki to let her start physical therapy so she could start walking again.

But she hadn't brought it up yet.

"Phoebe?"

"What?"

"Remember that flash drive I gave you?"

"The one that was full of porn, that you said would help me learn about my father? Was he a porn addict or something?"

"Uh…"

"Well?"

"You didn't figure it out?"

"Figure what out?"

There was no way she could be that stupid…How had she not made the connection? He thought she was smart enough to figure it out. She should be. Then again, Tony couldn't always make the connections between things.

Maybe Phoebe was the same way.

"Never mind, right now. As you said, it's late. We should get some rest. We do have a huge brunch in the morning."

"I hate brunch."

"Me too."

The worst part was having to share a bed. He knew that Loki was probably having them watched, waiting to see what he would do. He had told him, that he wouldn't do anything to her until she was ready. That was for her sake and his.

"Samuel?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you happy?"

"Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Because you had to married a crippled thirteen year old with braces, and you're a thirty year old man…"

"I'm twenty seven. And I'm perfectly happy," he kissed her cheek.

She wiped it, "But…Never mind…"

"Okay..."

What could she want to say? What could be so important? Did she want to apologize? Or did she want him to? He had nothing to apologize for…She was well aware of what Loki could do to the both of them, if they refused. He would probably be killed. He wasn't important enough to be held prisoner or tortured.

He was selfish, marrying a little girl just so he could survive.

He was a horrible person.

Gunnar could have been killed, thanks to him…Taking him to the hideout was amazingly stupid…He had drugged him so that Gunnar wouldn't be able to remember where the place was but when Hill had started interrogating him, he panicked…And of course, Loki knew he was lying when he said he had been attacked…

Loki had told him if he wanted to regain his trust he would have to marry Phoebe. He didn't understand it at first...The same way he didn't understand why Loki had him cripple still wasn't over the guilt.

Poor girl.

He awoke the next morning with a massive hangover and was reminded why he didn't like drinking. The only other time, he had gotten that drunk was…was it his high school prom or graduation or what was it?

He couldn't remember. It didn't matter.

He popped a couple of Advil pills, and downed a glass of water. He was going to have to get dressed now, and get ready for the brunch Loki had planned. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He just wanted a cup of coffee or two and to not do anything for the rest of the day.

At least, he would have an excuse as to his appearance if he decided not to shower or brush his hair. What guy would look nice the day after his wedding? Loki wouldn't even be angry. Probably proud…Great…In nine months or so, he'd be expecting a kid…He didn't think about that before…Eventually, Phoebe would need to get pregnant…That was a thought he didn't need.

"Phoebe, we need to get downstairs…Your father will be expecting us."

"Do I have too?"

"Yes."

"Now, do you want the chair or the cane?"

"Chair…"

"You hate the chair."

"My leg hurts and I don't feel like walking."

Fair enough. He helped her to the bathroom and waited while she showered and dressed. He helped her back into her brace and sat her in the chair.

"I can wheel myself."

"Of course."

Brunch was not as bad as he thought it would be. Only Loki and Gunnar had come. Judging by their looks, they both had had a more exciting night than him and Phoebe. Didn't surprise him. Loki always slept with whores and Gunnar…well, Gunnar was a teenage boy. Hell, if he had been in Gunnar's position when he was his age, he probably would have taken advantage of it too.

It would have been over even quicker had Loki not insisted they open up all their wedding gifts there. There were the usual things; silverware, crystal, fine china, bed linens…They weren't going to use half this stuff. There was plenty in the palace. Why did they need more? Some things were just for Phoebe…There were a couple of things just for him. It just seemed too extravagant.

He didn't have a ton growing up. His family had had enough just to get buy but there was rarely enough if they wanted something more like a night out to the movies or new video games. Those had been rare treats for Christmas, Easter and birthdays.

Now, he lived in a world where more food would be served in an evening than his family would have in a month. There was more food at this breakfast than his family was able to afford in a week.

"What's the matter, Samuel?"

"Nothing, my lord."

"Then eat. It is a time to celebrate and I almost never see you enjoying yourself at parties. And this is such a joyous occasion."

"Of course."

He had to agree.

The servants put all their things into the carriage, their bags from the hotel had already been delivered to the palace and loaded. The vacation home was hours away. He had no idea what they were supposed to do for entertainment.

"Excuse me," he asked one of the servants, "Can I have a laptop please?"

"A laptop?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright. I will go fetch one, my lord."

Phoebe smiled, "He just called you 'my lord'. You're really moving up in the world, aren't you?"

"Yeah…You have the flash drive?"

"It's in my travel bag," she started pawing through a small bag next to her, "It's always with me…I just tell everyone it's full of tampons and stuff."

"Why would you need to carry around tampons? Don't you have servants for that?"

"I'm the princess and I can carry around whatever I damn want."

He smirked. This was how Phoebe would act if she was raised by Tony. He'd be proud. So proud. The servant delivered the laptop and smiled, "Enjoy yourselves."

Phoebe laughed, "Well, we do have those lovely videos."

Yep…definitely her father's daughter. He ruffled her hair, playfully. Like he used to do to his little sister..."Come on, let's watch."

"I don't actually want to watch porn…"

"Trust me…It's not…" he put the hard drive in, "…porn."

A video started playing. Music started playing and a video appeared. It was porn. Very obviously porn. He hadn't expected that. What was he supposed to do? He hadn't expected this out of the flash-drive. There had to be more than just the porn videos…Or could it be that Tony got it confused with the actual flash drive? If so where was the real one?

He clicked around. More videos popped up. All porn…The more he clicked, the more videos popped up. Damn it….Why couldn't things be simple?

"Told you it was porn. Totally messed with my laptop. I had to get a new one….Father was really upset…He almost killed me…I blamed Gunnar."

"You blamed your brother?"

"Yep."

She seemed almost proud. It reminded him of his little sister, and how much she used to get him into trouble…She loved doing that and his mom always believed her. As the older brother, he was supposed to be the responsible one…So much for that.

"Why am I not surprised?"

She smiled.

The computer continued to play the porn. Damn it. The servants were going to hear it. What would they think? Would they think they were doing? Would they really think they were both…It disgusted him to even think about the concept.

"I'm going to turn off the computer. Okay, Phoebe?"

She nodded.

The computer wouldn't turn off, "That's weird."

"Let me see."

"What do you know about computers?"

"Plenty."

He handed her the computer. He was curious as to what she'd do with it. He saw her frantically typing.

The music stopped.

"Ha. Told you."

It turned back on.

"Never mind," she said.

"If you want to learn, I'll teach you."

"Really?"

"You're my wife. I can decide what's best."

"Awesome…Now..how do I fix it?"

"I don't know."

"What if I just removed the drive? Last time, I just turned off the computer."

"That may work."

She yanked it out unceremoniously. The screen went blank. Finally, some peace and quiet. Maybe now, he could fall asleep. God knows he needed it. He definitely did not get enough the previous night...

Phoebe spent the rest of the trip fiddling with the computer.

It should be easy. But Tony had expected Phoebe Stark to be the one with the flash drive, not Princess Phoebe Lokisdotter.

Even the name sounded horrible…And his kids…Samuelsson or Samuelsdotter…That sounded horrible. Absolutely horrible…Even if he used his real name…It would still sound bad. Actually it would sound worse. Much worse….

Sometimes, he was glad to be rid of it…Other times, he wasn't. But he chose to get rid of it. Unlike Phoebe and Gunnar who were forced…Brainwashed.

He looked over to her. She was still playing with laptop. She was staring at it very intently. He wasn't sure what she was doing.

"You okay, Phoebe?"

"You said this was about…my father…right?"

He nodded.

"It doesn't make any sense."

"Why?"

"It doesn't make any sense," she repeated.

"What doesn't make sense, Phoebe? Tell me."

She just stared at the computer. Maybe now wasn't the right time to tell her. Maybe he should have waited. But until when? He thought she had figured it out by now...

"Wasn't my dad's name Robert? His name was Robert….And my mom's name was Gwennyth…"

He sighed, "Phoebe…I need to tell you something. It's really important. It's about your parents.

Your real parents. Not the man who raised you. And not the ones he told you about. Robert and Gwennyth…They never existed. Your dad…father ..your biological one…He wasn't a simple engineer. To call him that would be an insult to his memory. He wasn't the King's most loyal

follower. Think about it. How would a simple engineer become the most loyal follower? Your dad…Your dad didn't agree with any of that."

She shook… "Then everything…everything…I know…"

"Is a lie…."

"So…my dad is...my dad was…"

"Iron Man. Also known as Tony Stark," he smiled, "which makes you Phoebe Stark, more specifically Phoebe Anthony Stark."

"Anthony?"

"Your father's full first name. He hated it. That's why people called him Tony…"

Phoebe went silent for a good long time. He could tell she was thinking. She stared at the screen, "What was my mother's name?"

"Pepper. Didn't you read the book?"

"I burned it…like a week after you gave it to me."

He laughed, "Burned it?"

"Fireplace. I used the fireplace."

He smiled, "Good idea."

"There's a video on here…Can you watch it with me?"

"Tonight…I think we're nearly there."

So that night, they made a bag of popcorn and settled down on the bed. He popped open a couple of soda cans and handed one to Phoebe. She giggled and laughed at the bubbles and taste. Loki hadn't allowed her to have soda. For some reason, he thought it was funny how such a simple thing made her so happy.

The video was shorter than he thought it would be. In it, Tony looked exhausted. He had bags under his eyes, his cheeks were sunken in, like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Well, Bruce just died last night…Steve and his wife were killed about a week ago…Natasha and Clint have been dead for almost a month…I guess I'm next. There's no way Loki would save me for last…I'm kind of surprised he waited this long…I was sure I'd be one of the first…But, that's not the point...Phoebe, I don't know how old you will be when you see this. I don't care…But remember…I love you. But, let's cut the crap…If you're watching this, you're in trouble, you're desperate…And that means its time…Underneath Stark Tower, is a room. It can only be accessed by a member of the Stark family. Any bit of DNA will do…Or fingerprint or iris scan…It has everything you need…You have to carry on the Stark legacy. I'm counting on you. You're our only hope. And I know I've already said this but I feel guilty. My dad wasn't around a lot growing up and I always wanted to be there for you. And now, I know for sure that I won't be there to see you do all the things a dad wants to see his daughter do; graduate elementary school, first day of high school, prom, drive a car for the first time...pilot your own mechanical suit for the first time…college…I'm going to miss that all and I want you to know that I'm sorry."

He paused for a moment and put his face in his hands

"There's videos for the others in here; Stevie, Bryan and Gunnar…And just in case for some reason you can't get there like you're in another country or the entire place has been destroyed or turned in Loki's summer home or something…all the blueprints are on this drive. Good luck and remember…"

"DADDY!"

He turned, "What is it, Phoebe?!"

"DADDY!"

"Just a minute!"

"NOW!"

Tony turned back to the screen, gave a little smile and sighed. The screen clicked off and turned black again. Phoebe just stared at the screen, her face solemn and her eyes tearing up. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling right now. She was shaking. He wrapped his arms around her and let her bury her head into her head into his chest.

Was she upset that Tony was her father or upset that she was lied to or upset that she didn't know that Tony was her father or was it a combination of all of them or was it something else entirely? He had no idea.

It couldn't be easy though. The girl just found out that her whole entire life had been a lie. She was taking it pretty well…Better than he would have handled it. Definitely better than he would have handled it.

"It's going to be okay…It's going to be okay, Phoebe…Everything's going to be okay..Everything is going to be alright…Okay?"

She sniffed, "Okay…but…what do I do now? How can I face my father…and Gunnar?"

He thought about it. He had never really considered what they would do once he told her. He didn't think about how it would affect her.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I guess I didn't think about it. But we'll figure it out."

She seemed unsure, "I do not know…I am scared. What if he figures out that I know? Will he kill me? What will he do?"

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? It's useless to worry about something that might not even happen. It just wastes energy."

"That explains a lot."

He glared at her, "Ha ha. That was hilarious,"

"I thought it was. But Samuel…If my…If he..finds out…that I found out…wouldn't he…want me dead?"

The question caught him off-guard, "I don't know. But as I said, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Just be careful about what you say in public. You need to appear as though nothing has changed. As far as you know, you're still the daughter of Robert and Gwenneth…whatever their last name was…."

"Downey."

"Robert and Gwenneth Downey who were killed mercilessly by the Rebellion because of their loyalty to the King and then you were adopted and raised as a princess until the day you married me. Alright?"

"Alright," she took a deep breath, "I can do it."

"Good. We won't have to see him for awhile anyway. We have three weeks here and then our around the world tour…I've always wanted to travel. I never got the chance when I was a kid. I can't wait to see everything."

Phoebe nodded, "Me too. I never got the chance to see much of anything outside the palaces. I'd love to actually meet people. I've been learning several different foreign languages for the past seven years. I'd love to actually use them."

He smiled, "Lucky you. I only remember my first year of high school Spanish."

Phoebe laughed.

It wouldn't be rough for a while. A simple vacation. God knows he needed it. He hadn't had one in goodness knows how long. Between 'spying' on the Resistance and being Loki's advisor, he hadn't had time for a real vacation. This would be a nice change. He could relax on the beach, swim, go fishing, hiking…whatever he wanted. It would be nice. Even the trip around the globe would be relaxing. He could see all those places he would read about in school. The places he thought he'd never be able to see.

But that didn't change his loyalty. The only reason he ever joined Loki was to spy on him. It sucked that the Rebellion didn't trust him anymore. He had made a couple of really stupid mistakes that cost him…But they needed to get into Stark Tower. Get the weapons, the suit…Help out the Rebellion…Do the right thing, for the first time in years.

_(A/N: So?! So?! What do you think? Was this the revelation you have all been waiting for? Has it? Were you surprised that Samuel is a good guy?! Do you want more chapters from him? Good chapter? Bad chapter? Meh? Feel free to tell me. Reviews are very welcome. *gives puppy dog eyes*Please? As a belated birthday gift? Next chapter is on it's way!)_


	26. Chapter 26

_(A/N: Hey again. It's me with another chapter. I sincerely wish I could make this into my summer job. My mom hates that I sit on my butt all day on my computer when I could be doing something productive and I need money...But that would make this illegal and I do this for the fans. __ So, with that out of the way I give you Chapter 26 as told from Stevie's POV.)_

"That lousy bastard…She's barely half his age. She just turned thirteen and she's expected to marry him? What the hell are they thinking? She shouldn't be getting married or anything like that… She's too young! Isn't it illegal for her to get married? Don't you have to be at least sixteen… Or something like that? I mean… You have to be a certain age to… have… you know… sex?" the words came out of Stevie's mouth faster than he could think, "Well, Bryan… Don't you? You're good with this kind of stuff? Don't you have to be eighteen to have sex with whoever want… Even if you're married? Isn't that the law?"

"Yeah, when our parents were alive. And besides, Stevie, she's the daughter of the most powerful man on the planet. The normal laws don't apply to her. Or any part of the royal family. You know that… And they're on their honeymoon now. Even if they weren't married yet, there's nothing we could do to stop it," Bryan went back to his book.

Why did Bryan always have to be right about these things? It really pissed him off. Couldn't for once he agree with him? Especially now, when their best friend was married to some lying, two-timing, double-crossing, cowardly, bastardous son of a bitch...She couldn't marry him. He didn't deserve her. Right now, he was probably busy sweating on top of her, panting and groaning like some sort of horny old dog while she lay flat on her back, biting her lip, closing her eyes, tears running down her face, trying not scream. He'd be kissing her, shoving his tongue into her mouth, his breath smelling of alcohol while he groped her breasts with big, clumsy hands. Shouldn't they focus more on helping her? Wouldn't they be focusing on helping her if Loki was doing this to her?

"Damnit, Bryan. We need to rescue her."

"Last time we tried a rescue attempt, Phoebe ended up crippled, Cooper betrayed us, I hulked out twice and oh yeah…You almost ended up with an eye-patch like the Director."

"Our parents sacrificed their lives… I think losing an eye is a small price to pay in comparison."

"We aren't our parents… If we die, there's no one left to fight."

There he went again. Bryan was right. Why was he always right? He wasn't the leader. Bryan should be listening to him. He was in charge. He was the oldest. His father had been the leader of the Avengers. And he was the older one. Why couldn't he be right?

He curled his hand into a fist and punched the makeshift punching bag hanging from the ceiling. It fell to the floor with a heavy thump, spilling sand everywhere.

"Are you sure you don't have any Hulk genes in you?"

"Pretty sure… Unless somehow male/male pregnancies became possible…."

"I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. could've figured it out eventually."

"Yep," Stevie nodded, "Eventually. Now, that would be something that would get people riled up."

Bryan just glared at him, "Yeah…"

Was it something he said? What had he done this time? He was just making a statement. It was his opinion. It was more of a joke. Before he could apologize, Bryan stamped away. He could tell he was upset. And that meant they weren't going to get anything done for the rest of the day. Great…

Stevie picked up a textbook and flipped through it. He was supposed to do at least a page of work from each textbook a day. Otherwise his TV privileges were taken away. It was stupid. He really didn't even like television that much but he didn't want Agent Hill or the Director yelling at him for not doing his work. Where was he? Right… Algebra.

When the hell was he ever going to use this? It wasn't like the answer to defeating Loki would lie in him solving an algebra problem. He was never going to this… He should be training his body. Getting stronger. Tougher. Gaining stamina. He didn't need books or math or science or history or grammar. Why did they even bother? He knew enough to read books and know when he was getting jipped at the market. He knew when two things mixed together would explode or not. What else did he need to know?

He wandered around the basement. He had finished the math work though he doubted if any of it was right. He had already read his pages for history and science. There was nothing left for him to do until the Director and Hill came back. He couldn't train alone. And he couldn't use the dummies because the noise could bug Bryan… What was he supposed to do?

He thought about Phoebe. When they were little he and Bryan would play after school with her. They would play board games, video games, imaginary games like House and Avengers… Sometimes they would be the Avengers and sometimes they would use their action figures… Each of them had a set. He had found Phoebe's set underneath her bed. He kept them in the same box where he kept his sock, if only because nobody else would look there.

He had vague memories of other times. The night of the infamous bathtub photo, a couple of birthday parties and other things like that. One time stood out in particular. It had just been him and Phoebe playing at her house after school. Bryan had gone home early that day because he wasn't feeling well. They had been discussing how Bryan changed and how cool it would be if they could do it too. But they couldn't figure out how. They knew it had to do with chemicals. And Phoebe suggested they try eating Twinkies because her mommy said they were full of chemicals, but her daddy had a whole stash of them and maybe if they ate enough Twinkies that would work. They ate four and a half boxes before they were discovered. Needless to say, it didn't work and all they ended up with were stomachaches.

And she probably didn't remember any of them. She was too busy being princess to remember them. And now, of course, busy getting pregnant. Shouldn't she be smart enough to know not to get married to such a man? Why would she even say yes? She was smarter than that! And didn't she want to marry somebody closer to her own age?

"Stevie, can you help Maria with the groceries?"

"Yes, sir."

He hurried over to Agent Hill and took several bags of groceries and helped carry them to their "kitchen."

"Where's Bryan?"

"His panic room"

Agent Hill sighed, "I'll go check on him." She handed the rest of the groceries and hurried out of the room. The Director motioned him over to the couch. He dumped the groceries on the table and plopped himself down. The Director pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Stevie...It's getting really exhausting having to deal with both of you fighting and arguing all the time. I can't have Bryan on the verge of hulking out all the time. I know it's not all your fault. You're both teenage boys and have hormones raging through your systems all the time…But you have to control yourself and realize when you're starting to piss him off. You're the older one and therefore I expect you be the mature and responsible one. Okay?"

Stevie nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Good. What happened this time?"

"I don't know."

The Director just shrugged, "Okay. Thanks."

He trained with Agent Hill. He was always afraid of hurting her. Even though she was strong, he hated fighting women. Yes, she was strong but she was getting old. He could see a few wisps of gray hair starting appear and wrinkles beginning to crinkle around her eyes and mouth.

"Stevie, you can't be afraid of hurting me. There could be a day when Loki turns me against you. You can't be afraid to fight me, she aimed a kick at his leg which he blocked. She fell to the floor, "Good job."

He hated it when she said stuff like that. Why did they always expect the worst? Negative thoughts always led to bad results. If you thought positively about things they had a better chance of turning out well. He hadn't been to keen on rescuing Phoebe once it was actually time. He had almost chickened out. If they were going to be heroes, Bryan couldn't be scared.

He had to get out of this basement. It was small. It was dark. And it stank. Like mildew, sweat, old laundry and pine scented air freshener. God. It was horrible. How he survived the past two years down here? He had to get out. Why did all the chores have to be done already? Otherwise, he could go out to the market. He was finally old enough to go without Agent Hill or the Director breathing down his neck.

They watched TV before bed that night. A replay of the royal wedding. The kiss. The damn kiss. And Samuel looked at the camera and smiled. Smiled. Perverted bastard. Right after the honeymoon, Stevie bet that he would have a whole house full of whores. He probably didn't even care about Phoebe. He would just stick himself into her whenever he felt like it, then leave her alone while he went off to work. He was probably the jealous type. Wouldn't let her out or let her do anything. She'd just sit there, waiting… And then, in nine months or so, she'd have a baby...and then another and another and another…

"You know that she probably didn't have a choice, Stevie. And neither did he. He's probably just as unhappy about it as she is," Bryan sat down next him,"He's nearly thirty. Agent Hill's more his type than Phoebe…"

He couldn't help but smile. He remembered that Cooper would always flirt with Agent Hill. She would always ignore him. And the Director always looked like he was ready to smack him. Funny now, since he was sure the Director and Agent Hill were sleeping together. He had figured it started a couple months after Cooper had left. He had woken up and turned over to see the two of them facing the same side, The Director's arms around Agent Hill…

It had bugged him. The last time he had seen two people together was when his parents died. Loki had been on top on his mother, his pants unzipped while she cried for him to stop trying to fight but she wasn't strong enough. Loki had looked right at him and smirked.…He had no idea what had been going on at the time. He just knew it was bad. One because his mommy was crying and two, one time he had caught his mommy and daddy in a similar position, but they had told him it was something only adults did when they really loved each other.

He wasn't sure how the Director and Agent Hill felt about each other. He knew they cared for each other. But did they love each other like his mom and dad? Or how he loved Phoebe? He had fallen for her as soon as he saw her...And ever since then he wanted to protect her.

He started drawing up plans for a rescue, that night. These he would show to nobody. He would keep them in his sock box, where nobody ever looked until he felt like he was ready. He would train harder. Get stronger, much stronger. He wasn't looking to defeat Loki this time, only help Phoebe. Rescue her from her tower, like in the fairy tales.

He and Bryan still shared a mattress…They had both stripped down to their boxer shorts. The blanket was kicked off to the side. Sharing a bed was okay during the winter. During the summer, it was hell. He pushed back his hair trying to stop the sweat from dripping into his eyes. It didn't help, "Ugh…It's so hot…."

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious."

"Well, I'm hot…You'd think that there would be a fan or A/C or something."

"We can look tomorrow."

He didn't sleep. Too damn hot.

In the morning, he and Bryan trudged to the market. The sun was barely up and he could already feel the temperature starting rise. He was sweating like a pig and it was hard to breath.

"Stevie, can we make this quick?"

"Yeah."

It took awhile to find a fan. They decided against an air conditioning unit because it was too impractical, too heavy, too expensive and neither of them knew how to set one up.

"How much?"

"Twenty."

"Dollars?"

"Unless you want to give me twenty minutes of your time," the guy said looking him and up down. It gave Stevie the creeps.

"No, no thanks. I'll just pay."

"You sure? What about your friend?"

"I don't think you have quite enough meat for me…I prefer sausages to cocktail weenies," Bryan said smirking.

"Well then, buddy, your price just went up to thirty dollars."

Crap. Thirty bucks…That was almost all their cash. Everyone always thought that since they were kids they could be easily cheated, that they were just a couple of ignorant little street rats who would do anything for a bit to eat. They weren't that far gone yet. And it was a fan. It wasn't as though it was totally necessary to their survival.

"Well, then we'll be taking our business elsewhere. Come on, Stevie," Bryan said and walked away.

What the hell was he thinking, Stevie thought as he tried catch up with him. Couldn't he have just said no to the guy, so they could have just paid the twenty bucks and left? Why did he need to have an attitude?

"Excuse me… Can you help me? I got lost and I can't find my daddy.."

It was a little girl. She had thick, dark hair plaited into braids and was wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Bryan bent down next to her and started talking.

"It's okay. We'll find your daddy, sweetie. Don't cry…Now what's your name?"

"I'm not allowed to tell strangers."

"My name is Bryan."

"I'm Maria…"

"What a pretty name! I have a very good friend whose name is Maria."

"Really?"

"Yes…Now what's your daddy's name, Maria?"

"Pablo."

He could see the vendors all staring at them…Two teenage boys with a little girl…He knew what they were thinking. It wasn't good. They had to get her out as soon as possible without any noise before people started asking questions. He gave her a piece of bread to keep her calm and quiet, and took her by the hand.

Maria reminded him of Phoebe. She was excitable and happy and sweet… .How could somebody just leave someone like that all alone to fend herself? She was just a little girl. She could get hurt. Or kidnapped... Or …They had to protect her. She couldn't protect herself… It was a good thing they found her. They could protect her. Make sure she was okay until they could return her to her parents… It would be safer for her to spend the night with them. If they left her outside, she'd probably die. She looked so skinny and weak… She needed food. They didn't have enough to feed themselves, an extra mouth to feed would just be a burden… He could go without dinner though.

She was really enjoying the bread, "Can I have another piece?"

"Of course."

He ripped off another piece of bread larger than the last one and gave it to her. She gnawed on it eagerly. He was happy to give food to her. Even if it meant he would have less. He would go without dinner for a week if it meant that Phoebe would have…No. Her name wasn't Phoebe. Maria wasn't Phoebe…She wasn't Phoebe…He had to remind himself of that.

Halfway to the tower, he started to carry her. She snuggled against his shoulder. She must be exhausted, he thought. He looked over to Bryan who was carrying the groceries.

"What do you think the Director will say?"

Bryan shrugged, "He can't say no…But we have to be careful. I can't hulk out or anything…But if we're lucky we'll find her dad soon and we'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"But we should tell Agent Hill first…She might be able to convince the Director."

Stevie laughed, "Use her feminine charms?"

"Maybe…Do you really think they…"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

He gave another laugh and shifted little Maria in his arms. What if they couldn't find her parents? Would she be able to stay with them? If Loki found out about her there's no doubt he'd have her killed…little Maria snuggled against his shoulder.

The Director had them put her down for a nap. He saw Bryan tuck his old, patched up, one eyed toy dinosaur under her arm and put their blanket over her. He wanted to stay, make sure she didn't have a nightmare or get lonely or cold or thirsty...He didn't want to leave her alone. He didn't want her to be scared…

"Boys, what the hell were you thinking?"

They were read the usual riot act. What were they thinking? Why did they do it? And this time, did they know how much danger they put the innocent girl in…And blah, blah, blah…He didn't let them get a single word in. Stevie hated that…Shouldn't he listen to them and why they decided to bring her home with them? It wasn't like they were going to bring home every single lost kid they found.

He expected that the Director would take away some of their privileges or give them extra chores or give them some kind of punishment. That's what they usually happened when they got in trouble. Last year he had lost TV privileges for a month and he had to do extra chores whenever someone turned on the TV…Of course Bryan turned it on whenever he had the chance…But this time, they weren't punished. The Director wouldn't explain why. He told them it wasn't important.

Of course, after all these years he knew whenever the Director said something wasn't important that usually meant it was actually important. He wasn't stupid. Or gullible. Seriously…He wasn't a kid any more.

He and Bryan sat in front of the TV. Neither of them were really paying attention...But until they had moved into the Tower they hadn't had TV since their parents had died. They watched it just for the heck of it…It was one of the few things they could do and one of the few things in the basement they could work. They hadn't touched any of the suits…They were too afraid of what would happen…Same with most of the other things, And he couldn't even been to guess what the huge machine in corner was. It just sat there collecting dust.

He wished he knew what it did. If he discovered what it did, they would be so grateful…He'd be a hero. But even the Director wasn't sure what it did…Tony hadn't left any clue…You think he would. He left other stuff but nothing to indicate what the machine did…Stevie had a feeling that it was important. More important than everyone else did.

Stevie couldn't sit still...He checked on little Maria. She had fallen fast asleep. She looked so peaceful.

"Stevie? What are you doing here?"

"Just checking on little Maria."

"Same," she sighed and ruffled the little Maria's hair, "You guys found her in the market?"

"Yeah, she was crying. She couldn't find her dad. Do you think her dad left her there?"

"If he did, I'm going to kill him…But I doubt he did. He would never do something like that…"

She was talking as if she knew Maria's father… Maybe she was just in denial, maybe she like him, was just in denial. Maybe she didn't want to think that somebody would abandon a little girl in the middle of a black market.

"Bryan and I are going to look for her parents tomorrow. I don't know where we're going to start…"

"At the market, that's where her parents will look for her…Ask the guy who sells the medicine…Nick…I mean the Director once ran into her father and helped him out because he didn't have any money to buy medicine for his wife. Little Maria and her brother were with him…that's why Nick's okay with her staying here."

That kind of made sense. The Director occasionally helped out the poorer people, especially if they had kids…But he couldn't help but feel like there was more. Something he was missing. Like always.

"Oh. Is that all?"

"Yes. If you guys can't find her parents by tomorrow night…Tell me…Okay? Just tell me…And I can get her back quickly…but just see if you can get her back first. Okay?"

"Okay."

He couldn't sleep that night. He didn't work on his plans though, like he promised himself he would. Instead he watched little Maria sleep. Her little chest rose up and down, up and down, up and down…She looked so peaceful. Was she dreaming of home? Of her own bed? Her parents? Her brother? It must be a good dream…He wished he could still have dreams like that. He only ever had nightmares.

"Stevie…"

"Huh..Yeah, Pho…Maria?"

"I gotta pee…"

"Okay."

He took her to the bathroom and waited outside for her to finish. When she came out, her eyes kept darting around the room, "What's that for?" She pointed to the machine in the corner.

"I don't know. "

"Why?"

We haven't figured it out yet."

"Oh."

He tucked her back into bed. She hugged the dinosaur close to her, "Can I have a story?"

He told her the only bed time story he knew. He told her about a boy who was born weak but one day became strong and then went off to fight in a war. The boy had fight a great evil, in order to protect his family, his friends, his country and everything he loved. But in the end he had to sacrifice himself in order to save them. He even had to leave behind the girl he thought was his true love. But the boy didn't die… He woke up, in the future. At first he didn't like it. All he wanted to do was to go back home but he couldn't. Eventually, he met a group of people, a lot like him. They all wanted to protect the world they lived in. So they made a team…They didn't all get along at first but they eventually saved the Earth. The boy met a girl. She was a waitress and had no idea the boy was the hero who saved her life. They fell in love. So, he fought harder to protect her. The day before they got married, he told her the truth...The boy was afraid the girl might leave him but all she did was kiss him, and say she'd love him no matter what…And told him about how he saved her life. They had a child, a little boy…Now just because he was married and a son, the boy didn't stop fighting. He had people he truly cared about and he would protect them even if it meant giving up his own life. And one day, he did. The evil man who had bought the team together in the first place came back. He wasn't strong enough to fight him on his own. He saw his true love killed right before his eyes. There was nothing he could do. He almost gave up but he still had his gave up his life to make sure his son would live…The son was taken in by the man who had organized his father's superhero team. This was good because the son wanted to be a hero just like his daddy and protect the people he cared about… He vowed that he would avenge his father's death and defeat the man who killed his parents along side his friends.

"Did he do it?" Little Maria's eyes were wide, "Did the son defeat the bad guy? And live happily ever after?"

He ruffled her hair, "I don't know. I haven't read the ending yet."

"I think he'll win. The good guys always win. That's what my daddy told me. They always win because if they lose they can lose everything they care about…Like the boy in your story…That's what my auntie did. My daddy had a sister but she left so she could help save the world…He hasn't heard from her since but he still remembers her. He wants me to grow up to be strong and brave like her. That's why I'm named Maria. Maria Paloma Hill. That was his sister's name. That way I can be strong and brave too."

He didn't know Agent Hill had a brother…He wondered whether she knew that little Maria was her niece. She must. She had too. That's why she asked him to tell her if they couldn't find her parents…She would probably call them…No doubt it would be a bitter sweet reunion. It all made sense now.

He had to protect Little Maria…For the Director, for Agent Hill…for Phoebe…He bet Phoebe would want to protect her. They were so much alike…both smart, so brave, so strong…So protecting Little Maria would be like protecting Phoebe…If he made sure Little Maria was okay…It would be like Phoebe being okay. That was of course, until he could he could actually rescue her. Rescue Phoebe. Like his dad rescued his mom…Saved her life. He would do the same for Phoebe. Save her life and then maybe she would fall in love with him and she'd leave Cooper…and they could defeat Loki and live happily ever after. Just like the stories.

_(A/N: What a chapter! Am I right? What do you think, lovely readers? Will Agent Hill meet with her brother? What will happen to Little Maria? Will Stevie ever be able to tell Phoebe how he feels? Will he ever see her again? And will Bryan ever gain control? And most importantly have Fury and Hill slept together yet? Why do I always ask these questions at the end of chapter? Stay tuned. Another chapter is on its way!)_


	27. Chapter 27

_(A/N: First of all…Robert Downey Jr. will be returning as Iron Man! I've been fangirling ever since. The movies wouldn't be the same without him and besides __**SWOONS**__. Second of all, sorry for the delay. I got a new computer because my old one was…well, old and every time I wanted to save a document it had to be under a new name. Third of all, thanks to my beta readers. I wouldn't be able to do this without you. And of course, the usual intro, so we can get to the story…Chapter 27. Loki's POV.)_

Loki sipped a glass of wine and reclined back in his chair. A female servant scurried over with a pillow, placed it under his feet and refilled his wine glass. Midgardians may be ants, but they made excellent servants. They always did what they were told. They worked quickly and efficiently. And they were more than happy to do things to gain his favor.

"Foot rub, my lord?"

"Yes, please."

This was his favorite room, his little trophy room. It was private, neither Phoebe nor Gunnar had ever been allowed in. Not too long after Phoebe's 'incident', he had all the contents of his trophy room packed up and shipped to New York. He knew he would be there for some time, and also a trophy's purpose was to be admired, was it not? He had the shield of Captain America up on the wall, freshly polished. It was quite well crafted. Pity it didn't get any use anymore. The Beast's head hung on the wall as well. Every day, the hair was brushed and the teeth were cleaned. He had been surprised that the body did not change into its human form when he had cut off the head. But he had been glad it had not. A human head would not have the same effect. The weapons of Hawkeye and the Black Widow were in a glass case, like a museum. Stark's arc reactor sat in a similar case, nestled on a velvet cushion. And from his brother, how he wish he could have taken the hammer from his grip, Mjolinir, the hammer of invincibility. But he could not lift it. Even after all he had done, he was not worthy of Thor. He was not stronger. Not better...

He had ended up taking Thor's helmet. His crown. The very thing that marked him as a king, and he had taken it away. It too, lay in a case. Sometimes though, he would take off his own crown, his helmet of golden horns and replace it with Thor's silver winged one. But, it always looked ridiculous on him. He was no Prince of Asgard. No. He was King of Midgard. He was better than Thor. He did what Thor did not. He conquered a world. He became a King.

"Anything else, my lord?"

He thought for a moment, "Are there any events happening that I should be made aware of? Anything involving the Rebellion or anything of that sort I should be made aware of?"

The girl went quiet for a moment, "Uh, nothing that I believe requires your immediate attention. Everything is quite calm today. The only major event is that a little girl went missing while out shopping yesterday, with her father while in an area known for illegal trading. He is begging for her safe return."

Loki rolled his eyes. It was nothing he should concern himself with. Perhaps he would send a sympathy card to them. The citizens always appreciated things like that. It was one of the ways he kept them on his side, and kept his appearance as a caring, likeable leader, "I wish to send a letter to the family expressing my regrets. Do you know the name of the family?"

"Hill, my lord. The family's name is Hill."

"Hill? Are you positive?"

"Yes, my lord. Pablo and Hannah Hill."

"And the name of the child who went missing?"

"Maria."

He smiled. Maria Hill could not be that common of a name after all. It was doubtful that the child's name was a coincidence. Perhaps, the family deserved a little more than a card, "Forget about the letter. Set up the carriage. I will be paying them a personal visit."

The Hill family consisted of seven people including the missing child Maria; Jason and Rosanna Hill who had not very long ago took in their son Pablo, his wife Hannah and their three children; Harold, Maria and Alex. Harold and Maria were both about seven, and were twins. Alex was barely two years old. They were not particularly wealthy. They seven of them lived in one small house to cut down on expenses. The older son Harold was sick often and the wife Hannah was still unable to work. Their situation was not uncommon, but this family had fallen upon particularly hard times.

The Hill residence was a small, old but well kept house in a poorer district of the city. Funny how Agent Hill had been so near them all this time and had not even bothered to visit or even say 'hello.' Or perhaps she did not even know they were there. That would change soon.

"You have a lovely home, Madame Hill."

"Thank you, my lord. May I offer you some refreshments? There is a batch of cookies that are fresh out of the oven."

"That would be excellent. Perhaps some tea as well?"

"No problem, my lord."

She went in to the kitchen. Her husband had a look of exhaustion, worry and sadness on his face. His hands were fidgeting in his lap. He kept glancing at the kitchen, waiting for his wife to come back out of the kitchen, avoiding any eye contact. He obviously did not share his wife's enthusiasm for his visit.

Loki glanced around the room, it was full of photographs; hanging on the walls, sitting on the tables, on top of the television set. He motioned to a photo of two little children; a red-haired boy and a dark haired girl with their arms around each other hugging and smiling, "Are these your grandchildren?"

"Yes. Two of them. The boy is Harold and the girl is Maria. Our third hadn't been born at that time."

"Of course."

There were certainly plenty of photos of the newest generation of the Hills. But there were also wedding photos of both the eldest generation of the Hill's and that of Agent Hill's brother. There were not so many of Agent Hill though. One caught his eye though. A young woman, maybe twenty years old was wearing a long robe, square topped cap with a tassel and smiling. She was quite pretty. Perhaps, that was one of the reasons why Director Fury recruited her.

"Who is this?"

"My daughter. That is that last photo we have of her…At her college graduation. After that, she disappeared. We haven't seen or heard from her since. We don't know what happened to her. We don't even know if she's still alive."

"My apologies. What was her name?"

"Maria. Like our granddaughter."

"The one who went missing?"

"Yes," he nodded, "She and her brother were very close. He thought it would honor her memory if he named his daughter after her."

The elder Mrs. Hill came in carrying a tray of cookies, cheese and crackers. She had a nervousness about her as well. But rather than fidgeting like her husband, she kept offering him more cookies, coffee, tea anything he wanted. She seemed eager to serve him, and wanted to make him feel comfortable. It was obvious that she considered his visit a great honor

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure, my lord?"

"I am quite full but thank you Madame Hill for your hospitality. The cookies, in particular were quite delicious."

"You're quite welcome," She blushed and hurried back into the kitchen to put away the plate of sandwiches she had just made.

"I apologize, my wife, sometimes…offers too much hospitality. It's a…cultural thing," he stammered.

Loki waved it off, "It is fine. Now about your granddaughter…I would like to offer my services in order to find her. You see, I saw your family's predicament on the news and wanted to help. My daughter Phoebe is the most precious thing in the world to me. I cannot imagine what I would do if I lost her. I hope I will be able to help you locate her before she is harmed."

He waited for the answer. Mr. Hill seemed stunned, as thought he did not know what to say, "Thank you…Thank you so much. That's very kind of you."

"If you do not mind my asking, where are her parents? Your son and daughter in law?"

"Out looking for her. They went out first thing this morning."

He nodded, "They must be worried sick…Where did she go missing?"

"The…black market," Mr. Hill said.

"Was her brother there too?"

"Yes. But he is fine. He's at school right now."

"Can you tell me what happened, if you know?"

"They were at the market. Pablo just turned around for a moment and she was gone."

Madame Hill came back in the room with a tray filled with cups of coffee and small powdered donuts. She apologized for bringing it out but felt it was her duty as host to make sure her guests were taken care of, especially somebody of his position. He smiled and took a cup, "Thank you, once again, Madame. Your hospitality is truly the greatest I have ever experienced."

She blushed.

"Now. You say they were at the market place? That is an odd place for a child to go missing. The employees are trained for situations like that."

"It was… The black market," she said, "He didn't like going there but he had to. He went to hawk off some old jewelry. We needed the money. He took Harold and Maria because there was no school, and nobody else was home."

Loki nodded. It did not surprise him that they had turned to the black market. It was not uncommon for people to go there. Especially for people like the Hills, who were poorer and down on their luck. Her father had probably bought her along while he went shopping for something, thinking it was safer for her to with him rather than be somewhere by herself. Nothing to condemn, "It is a rather dangerous place. Not a good place for little children. There are many people who might cause her harm. But I believe, we can find her before any harm should find her."

"Thank you. I am sure Pablo and Hannah will be overjoyed."

"I am certain of it. I would like to meet your son and daughter-in-law but I should be on my way very soon."

They both nodded, holding each other's hands, "Thank you very much, my lord. I do not know if we could ever repay you."

He smiled to himself. Having Agent Hill's parents in his debt would give him an advantage. He would have something to hold over agent Hill, more so seven things. They were putty in his hands now. He could have them do almost whatever he wanted. Why not kill two or even three birds with a single stone?

"You also mentioned another missing child. Your own daughter. How long has it been since you talked to her?"

"A long time. Almost twenty years ago…She graduated college when she was just about twenty. You see she took a lot of college level courses, so she graduated early…"

"I cannot imagine what that must feel like. She sounds like an amazing young lady…

But if she is alive my men can find her."

The woman's eyes widened, welling with tears, "You say you can find our Maria, _mi hijita_?"

Loki nodded.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she collapsed on to the floor and kissed his feet, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"You are quite welcome. "

The woman continued to kiss his feet, crying, "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much."

What was it with women…He kept smiling. If she was grateful to him, the more he could use her. It would break her poor heart when her _hijita _died. Of course, it would also break her to know that her daughter had been alive this whole time and hadn't called, and had been having an affair with her boss… It would probably be too much for her to handle… And then what would become of her family? It did not matter at this point. He could figure it out later, "Please, do not thank me quite yet. Wait until I can return both your daughter and granddaughter to you. It would not be right."

"Of course," She got up, smoothed out her dress, wiped her eyes and went back to the couch next her husband who wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head. He seemed to crying as well.

Now what to do about the little Maria? Their granddaughter? He would have to find her now. A small sacrifice. And it could quite possibly bring Agent Hill back into the open. Two birds with a single stone. Perfect.

"Well, I must be off. Thank you for the hospitality," he said as he got up.

"Please, my lord. Is it possible that you can stay until our son and his wife arrive home? I'm sure they would…"

"Rosanna. I am sure the king is very busy. You can not keep him from his duties."

"But…But..." she stammered.

Loki put his hand on her shoulder, "Do not worry. As soon as I arrive back at the palace, I will have my best men on it. Once your granddaughter is returned safely, we will begin the search for your daughter."

She nodded, "Thank you and God bless you."

"And may he bless your family as well."

He was outside getting ready to get back into his carriage. He wanted to head back to the palace, and take a bath to get the stink of poverty off himself, perhaps have another glass of wine. He was looking forward to it. He could relax. He was king after all, he deserved it.

The Hill family had certainly been different than he expected. He had always thought that her mother would be like Agent Hill; thin, strong, well-built with an attitude to match; not matronly, messy bun haired and emotional. He had thought her father would be the one begging for her return. He had thought the father would be the one down on his knees begging for his child's return. He had not expected him to be the silent one. He had always thought of Agent Hill as being close to her father… He expected her to be… a how did the mortals put it… a daddy's girl. And what about her relationship with her brother? Perhaps he would know something the rest of his family did not.

The next morning, he and Gunnar sat at the breakfast table. The boy was not talking, he was too busy inhaling his breakfast to speak.

Two servants came in, each holding a tray. The first held a letter from Phoebe. She and Samuel were currently in Russia, as part of their honeymoon, as well as to settle a treaty so the country would call of their constant threats of nuclear attacks. She was doing well. The negotiations seemed to be working and they expected that they would have a new ally by the end of the week.

The other tray contained a batch of small cakes coated with powdered sugar.

"From Madame Hill, my lord. She wanted to express her thanks for your generous offer and wanted to say that her granddaughter was returned safe and sound. She hopes that your other offer is on the table."

"Of course it is. Is Madame Hill here?"

"Yes."

"Send her in."

"Of course," the servant bowed and left.

Gunnar put several of the cakes onto his plate, ate one of them, then piled on half a dozen more. Loki rolled his eyes. The boy was a regular glutton. Despite all his efforts, the boy still had many characteristics of his father. Namely, his appetite, both for food and for women… Though who was he to judge the boy about the latter?

He, himself had never been popular among the women while in Asgard but here, they could not get enough him. He enjoyed it. And so did Gunnar. He may as well give his nephew some sort of pleasure.

"These cakes are excellent, Father."

Rosanna Hill came in, timidly. A little girl was hiding behind her legs. Little Maria. Loki smiled at the child. She clutched at her grandmother's leg.

"Madame Hill, how kind of you to visit. Thank you for the sweet cakes. They are quite delicious. And this must be Maria. Hello, little one. Would you like a sweet cake? An apple? A cup of cocoa, perhaps?"

She shook her head.

"Alright, little one. I heard all about what happened to you and I think you were very

brave. Would you like to tell me all about it? Come here and sit on my lap. Come on."

He patted his leg. Madame Hill gave her a little nudge forward. Maria came forward. He lifted her up and sat her on his lap. She looked down at the floor, at her feet. This must have been how Agent Hill looked like when she was a little girl.

"Hi Maria. How are you?"

"Sleepy."

"I am sure you are. You had quite the adventure the other day. You know Maria, you remind me of my daughter when she was your age. She has a very pretty smile too. Can you smile for me?"

She gave a little smile, nervously. He ruffled her hair a little, trying to make her feel more

Comfortable. "Tell me," he said, "What do you like to do?"

"Draw. Read. Play with my brother."

"It always is good to play with one's siblings. Do you get along?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, can you tell me about what happened the other day? Like the boys who rescued you, do you remember their names? Or what they looked like?"

She nodded, "Stevie and Bryan… Stevie had blonde hair. He was really strong. Bryan had glasses and curly hair. They were both really nice. Stevie gave me bread and Bryan let me sleep with his dinosaur. Even though he's a big boy he still sleeps with a stuffed animal. But he told me in the morning, when I woke up, that he gave me it while I slept to protect me. Then after breakfast, they took me back to the market and they found my daddy."

"Did Stevie and Bryan live with anyone else?"

"U-huh. They lived with a lady named Maria who I didn't get to meet and the pirate man. He helped my daddy one time. He has an eye patch but he's really nice."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think his name is Nick."

"Did Nick look like either of the boys?"

"No. He's black. Stevie and Bryan are white."

Loki nodded. That was much easier than he thought it would be. His suspicions were right, "That is interesting. Do you know where they live? That way I can find them and thank hem for taking such good care of you."

"No."

"Well, thank you for your help Miss Maria," he quickly kissed her hand, "It is very much appreciated. Do not be afraid to come back to if you need help for anything."

"Okay."

"And Madame Hill, of course you and the rest of your family may ask for help. I only ask one thing. I ask that you work here, in my palace, as my personal baker."

He did not let her say no, of course but who would refuse an offer like that? Especially when you had so many hungry mouths to feed, bodies to clothe, a house to keep warm and not enough money to pay for it all. She would be paid more than enough money to take care of her family. He urged her to talk to them about it and he would be happy to hear from her tomorrow.

"Why did you do that, Father? Her baking is delicious but… we already have a baker, one that has been loyal for years. Why change now?" Gunnar looked confused, his brow furrowed, "She is just a commoner… I know you are doing a kind thing but why?"

"Many reasons, my son. It is about knowing your enemy and their weaknesses. Remember the importance of keeping your friends close but your enemies closer."

"I do not understand…"

"Come to the library with me. You and I shall have a discussion about it. If I should ever pass into the Realm of the Dead, you will be king and there are many lessons you must learn. I believe we can put off your sorcery lessons this morning. Follow me to the library, we can have a discussion on the subject there."

"Yes, Father."

_(A/N: I should really put in more Gunnar. He needs more love. But the next chapter, maybe Maria Hill's or her brother's POV? Change it up a bit? What do you guys think? Speaking of which, what do you guys think of Maria Hill's family? Just to clarify her mother is from a Spanish speaking country. I haven't decided whether it's Mexico or Spain, and her father is American. I know I didn't include much Spanish, so I included very little. But anyway, I'd love to hear your opinions on what characters you would like some of the chapters to be narrated by and of course what you think. Thanks a ton and keep tuned for the next chapter.)_


	28. Chapter 28

_(A/N: Alright, ultimately decided to put in a new POV just for fun. Introducing Pablo Hill, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Please enjoy this chapter. A huge thanks to iloveteanadcoffee for beta-reading for me. I hope you guys weren't waiting too long for this. Please enjoy!)_

Pablo Hill sat on the couch, rubbing his hands on his pants trying to get rid the sweat. He didn't want to appear nervous, or frightened, not in front of the King. He had been invited, as a guest to join the King for afternoon tea. Why him? The King had already seen his parents, even hired his mother as a baker. Why did he need to come?

He felt out of place. His clothes were old and patched. Everything here was clean and new and expensive-looking. The walls were lined with books. Old ones, bound in leather. There were no other decorations. He tried to peek through the corridor on the other side of the room but couldn't see anything.

"May I offer you something to eat, Mr. Hill? "

He hadn't even seen the girl walked in. She was dressed in a servant's uniform, a plain simple green dress, with an apron over it.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Alright, the King will be in shortly."

She curtsied and went out. He only waited for a few moments before the King came in, his boots clicking on the floor. He wasn't as tall as Pablo pictured him in real life. Pablo stood up and stuck out his hand. The King took it in his and shook it.

"It is good to finally meet your acquaintance, Mr. Hill. Please, take a seat."

He sat. The King sat across from him in a gilded seat with a little cushion on it. He smiled, "How is the little one? Doing alright, I hope? She reminds me of my little Phoebe when she was that age. Full of energy, and curiosity. Quite pretty too."

"She's fine. Thank you for asking, my lord."

"Of course, what kind of King would I be if I did not check up on my citizens?"

Pablo wiped his hand on his pants, which were beginning to sweat again. Servants came in proffering trays of cakes, cookies, small bread rolls. He recognized some of his mother's baking.

"Your mother is an excellent baker. "

"Yes. She is."

Why was he here? To chat? No. Something more. Maybe it was about his siser?

"Now, Mr. Hill… Do you prefer Mr. Hill, like your father or do you go by your first name?"

"Either is fine, my lord. Most people do call me Pablo."

"Then so shall I. Can I offer you something to drink? Perhaps something a little stronger than coffee. What do you prefer? Wine? Mead? Beer?"

"I am quite fine, my lord."

He turned to a servant, "Bring that bottle of red wine that the Italian ambassador bought me last week, two glasses. You must try it. It is absolutely delicious."

"Alright."

When the servant came back, the King poured the wine for both of them. Pablo sipped. It had been a while since he had drank, and it had never been anything like this. He would have preferred the beer.

"Now as to the reason why I called you here. It's about your daughter's disappearance. I have received information from men, that there have been a number of children who disappeared like your daughter but were returned to their families within a few days."

Pablo blinked, "Why?"

"It is not clear yet. But we believe they target certain children whose families they believe will be able to ask the family for favors, after they return the child to safety. Have any members of the Resistance contacted you? Has your daughter mentioned anything that they might have said?"

"No. She was asleep most of the time… Though she did mention that they had a funny machine. But maybe it was a generator or something and they were teasing her."

He thought of the boy who returned Maria, broad-shouldered, blond haired. What had she called him? Stanley? Stevie? Did it matter? He just said that she behaved herself and didn't even accept any payment. In fact the kid hardly said a word to him. He seemed to want to get out of there as quick as possible.

"Alright, then. How is your drink? Would like some more?"

"Yes, my lord. That would be wonderful."

He drank another glass of wine. It helped calm him down.

"Of course, you will tell me if they do contact you."

"Yes, of course I will."

"Good. I could use a new spy in the Rebellion lines."

He almost spit out the wine, "I…I..I…can't do that. I have a family…Children. A wife. I can't. I must respectively decline. I apologize but I can't. I just can't. I have too much to lose. I have no training. They could kill me. I could die. I am so sorry, my lord. It would not be possible."

He didn't know where the words came from. They just came out; rapid fire, stuttering, nervous, but all truthful. He couldn't be a spy. He could just pictured his body lying in alleyway, beaten to a bloody pulp of skin, bones, and organs with nobody left to care for his family… They'd starve.

The King just smiled, "Ah, just the answer I was looking for. I did not expect you to join. You are a family man, Pablo. You would never do anything that would place your family in danger. I respect that. But I do hope that if you are contacted by any member of the Rebellion, you will tell me. I will deal with it myself."

All he could do was shake his head and smile, "Yes. Yes. I will contact you should anything happen."

"And if you do not or if you should decide to join them, there will be dire consequences for both you and your family."

"I understand." What else could he say?

"Good. Now that we are in agreement about that, I do regret that I have another appointment. I trust you can escort yourself out?"

He nodded. It was only once he was outside did he realize that he had forgotten to ask about his sister. Or ask why the King just didn't tell his mother…No, it was better that his mother didn't know about the possibility of Maria being kidnapped by Rebels. It would give her a heart attack.

Hopefully he wouldn't have to do anything. Nothing for the King. Nothing for the Rebellion. Of course he didn't trust either side. He never liked the King. Especially, after the marriage. He didn't like the idea of a man marrying a girl to a man almost twice her age, when she was barely old enough to be finished with school. He thought the King should have made a better example and let the girl go on dates like a normal girl.

Hannah told him to stop. It was a different culture and they needed to respect that. And who were they to question the King? And that he should be more careful, that the walls had eyes and ears. She was probably right. They should be careful. But it had been one little comment and the King hadn't even mentioned it yet.

He didn't like the Rebellion either. They were reckless, unorganized, stupid… What had been the point of injuring the princess? And if they HAD taken Maria, even if they did return her safely, why would he owe them anything? He didn't have to repay them. What could they do anyway?

As long as he remained neutral his family was safe. That's all that mattered. He didn't have to do anything. That would be easier. Just fly under the radar. Like he always had. It made life easier.

He was nearly home when he heard the alarms. Police sirens. That meant a raid. Probably on the black market. But these days who knew? You heard stories of the police coming into private homes. It was always a friend of a friend's neighbor's cousin or something like that. But Hannah always said that one day, you could be that cousin of neighbor who was a friend of a friend.

He ran, hoping he didn't attract any attention.

He had been in the black market one time during raid. He had never been so scared. Forget what the King had told his mother… Yes, everybody went there but they all knew they were taking giant risks. The raids could happen at any time. And of course, they would come up with some reason; human trafficking, illegal drugs…the usual to arrest you. He had almost been arrested. He ended up bribing the cop… He never told anyone about it. Better that they didn't know.

He got into the house with no trouble. He locked the door behind him. Hannah was on the couch with little Alex, Harold and Maria were on the floor playing checkers, and his dad was probably in the bedroom taking a nap. Mama was probably still working. If she wasn't, she was probably having tea with the King.

"How was it, Pablo? Is everything okay? Did everything go well?"

"Yes, honey."

"Good. Good."

He kissed her cheek and turned to the TV. Hannah must have turned it on to drown out the noise. Harold and Maria didn't usually watch TV on school days.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine." She shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"How were the kids?"

"Like they always are."

Pablo turned to Alex, "Hey, buddy. What did you do today?"

"Helped mommy."

"That's my boy."

He ruffled Alex's hair. Three kids… When Hannah had told him she was pregnant for the second time, he'd been scared. How was he supposed to support three kids? In this economy? And when Hannah had gotten sick, he'd been so afraid of losing both her and Alex… If it weren't for that guy Nick, Hannah probably would have died

She was still weak but was getting better. And with Mama's new job, they'd be able to afford more medicine. But still…

They owed him. A lot. Nick had even helped his daughter when she got lost… She had said that the boys who rescued her knew Nick. She had seen him. But she hadn't talked to him. Only the boys. She said she had slept most of the time.

"Hey, Maria. I went to see the King today… He was worried about the people who helped you. He said that they took other little children. Did they ever mention that they took others? Or did they say anything mean about the King?"

"Uh-uh. They were very nice. They said they'd help me find you, daddy, like I said. But we walked around for a long time and couldn't find you so they said I could stay with them. And none of them touched me."

He smiled, ruffled her hair, "Alright, sweetie. I just wanted to know. I'm proud of you. You were brave."

"What about me?! I was brave too!"

"Yes, Harold, you were too."

"HA! Told you so, Maria!"

Harold and Maria started getting into one of those silly arguments that only siblings got into. The ones he and his sister Maria used to get into at that age, that involved calling each other names like "idiot" and "doo-doo head" and "meanie-pants." They began to wrestle knocking over their game of checkers.

He let them play.

Hannah sighed.

She never had siblings growing up. She didn't understand the bond that siblings had and how the fighting was part of growing up. And it was cute. It wasn't hurting anyone.

Maybe he was being sentimental. But what was wrong with that? They could be doing worse. He ended up separating them, giving them both a light tap on their bottoms and putting them in separate corners in their room.

Like his parents did to him and Maria. He missed her. A lot. They had been close. Closer than any other siblings he knew. She was the only sibling he knew that willingly helped her younger brother with his homework. On the weekends they'd play baseball, soccer, basketball…

The night she left, he caught her climbing out her bedroom window, suitcase in hand.

"_Maria?"_

"_Pablo? What are you doing awake?"_

"_I heard a noise. I thought someone was breaking in."_

"_So you bought your perfect attendance trophy to defend yourself?"_

"_It was the closest thing…What are doing anyway? What's the bag for? Where are you going?"_

"_I can't tell you."_

"_Why?"_

"_I'm not allowed. When mom and dad ask in the morning you didn't see me. All you found of me was this," she held up an envelope, "Don't look for me. You won't find me. But don't worry, I'll be fine. Okay?"_

"_Okay."_

"_I'm sorry, this is something I have to do."_

"_Why?"_

"_I can't say. It's classified..." she paused and took a breath, "I can only tell you if you promise never to tell another living soul."_

"_Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a red-hot burning needle in my eye, if I about this promise I should lie."_

"_I've been recruited to join a secret government agency. That's all I can tell you. I got to go… They're waiting for me."_

_She put the envelope on her pillow_ _and__ slipped out the window without another word. The next morning, he told his parents Maria wasn't in her bedroom and bought out the letter. His parents read it and cried. And cried. And cried. He never read it. He didn't want to. It probably said everything Maria had told him, except about the agency; I'm sorry, this is just something I have to do, don't worry, I'll be fine… And one thing she forgot but he knew; I love you. That was something he didn't need to hear. It was something his parents did need though…Mama still celebrated Maria's birthday by baking her favorite cake just in case….Plain with cinnamon swirled through and cream cheese frosting. Mama never made it any other time of year._

A knock on the door shook him out of his daydream. He figured it was Mama. She must have forgotten her keys or lost them. He looked through the peephole, before opening the door a crack.

"Nick?

The man was outside, he looked like he was about to collapse. He was holding something but Pablo wasn't sure what it was.

"Help…"

He shut the door again, before unlatching it to reveal Nick. He had a few scratches, a bruise on his forehead and cut on his cheek. But that was nothing compared to the woman in his arms. Her arm appeared to be broken. She had a black eye. Her hair was sticky with blood. She was unconscious. He helped Nick carry her in and place her on the sofa.

Nick covered her with his jacket, "Thank you."

"What happened?"

"The raid. She was hurt in the raid. I got her out of there as quick as I could," he looked apologetic, "She was trying to…protect me."

Pablo nodded. He couldn't ask him to leave. It wasn't as though he were a member of the Rebellion. They were probably just at the wrong place at the wrong time. The police probably wouldn't look for them. Not here, at least. They had no reason too.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I hope so…" Nick said. He brushed hair out of the woman's face.

Must be his girlfriend, he thought. What should he do? She needed medical treatment, badly. But they were far from the hospital, and he couldn't call an ambulance. They were going to have to treat her here…

Nick was holding the woman's hand, stroking it with his thumb. It was odd seeing a man like Nick so concerned. Odd…but strangely tender and sweet. It was the same way he had looked at Hannah when she was sick.

"She'll be okay. Don't worry," he patted Nick's shoulder, "She'll be okay," he repeated even though he wasn't sure himself. How was he going to explain this to Hannah, or his dad? Or Mama? That he let a man, who he had truly only met once, into the house during a police raid with his unconscious girl friend?

"I hope so. I hope so. I really hope so."

He sat next to Nick and took a good look at the girl, if you could call her that. She was about his age, maybe a couple years older. Pale face, dark hair that was originally in a bun but now was falling in her face.

She looked a lot like Maria. Just a little older.

"What's her name?"

Nick paused for a moment and looked him in the eye, "Maria. Her name is Maria."

"Wait...Are you saying…That's my…my…"

"Yes."

_(A/N: WHAM! Well, kind of. Nice little change of pace don't you think? Don't worry, I'll get back to the others soon. But honestly, what did you think? Who do you want to see more of? How do you think Maria's parents are going to react to her being alive? Her dating Fury?Should there be an awkward 'meeting the parents' chapter? Thank you all for reading! Stay tuned for the next chapter! Oh and to all those in the States, Happy Fourth! Have an awesome holiday!)_


	29. Chapter 29

_(A/N: Sorry for the wait for this chapter. I had writer's block. As usual thanks to all the lovely fans who left reviews, follows, favorites etc…etc. And, of course, a special thanks to my beta-reader i-love-tea-and-coffee for all her hard work. This chapter belongs to Gunnar! Enjoy, everyone!)_

Gunnar's hand shook as he placed the small, brown, leather-bound journal back into the drawer. The gold handle slipped from his grip and slammed back. He jumped, startled and glanced around the room expecting Father to appear at any moment. He stared at the mahogany desk with its gilded handles. It did not seem like he had managed to trip an alarm.

He backed away, groping for the crystal doorknob. Instead he tripped over Father's chair and onto the cream carpeting. He had to get out. His heart pounded. He could not get caught. If he were caught, he would be in more trouble than he could imagine. If he was caught, he could be killed. His disappearance would be covered up. It would be said that he fell victim to a deadly illness, or he was assassinated or even that he decided to take his own life… Something that would not be questioned by the public…

Nobody ever questioned Father. Even he had never questioned Father. It was something you were not supposed to do. Father was always right, and he had never seen anything wrong with that. He never had a reason to question Father's rules. Sure, when he was little sometimes he would get angry because Father would not always let him do what he wanted. But what child did not feel that way at least once in their life?

He had gone into Father's study out of curiosity, nothing more. He had wanted to see why it was forbidden. He had spent the first few minutes running his hand over the shield of Captain America. It fascinated him, with its red and white stripes, and the gleaming star in the middle. He ignored most of the other mementos. They lay in glass cases on velvet pillows preserved though they were on display in a museum. He could not feel them the same way he felt the shield.

Father was out, conducting a raid and would not be home until much later. Most of the servants were busy preparing for the feast that would take place later in the week, to celebrate the raid's success. He had never been on one. He had never been allowed. He had never been allowed to a lot of things

He and Phoebe were never allowed in the study. Even a servant could not be in there unless Father was too. He had always been a private man. Father hardly ever talked his past, not even about his family. Gunnar had always wanted to know about his birth father, Father's brother. But it was never bought up.

He had hoped that Father would have kept something to remind him of his brother. Anything. But not exactly what he was expecting to find. The journal. The damn journal. That damn stupid journal. He had found it in a drawer. It had surprised Gunnar. Father never seemed like the type to keep one.

Gunnar was still shaking when he reached his room. He opened his door and collapsed onto his bed. The silk sheets felt cool against his skin. He wrapped himself up in his blanket and buried his head in the pillows like he used to when he was little. He did not even bother to undress. He just lay there curled up inside his favorite blue and green blanket staring at the door. He just wanted it all to go away. He kept thinking that maybe if he went to sleep, when he woke up it would go away. It was a stupid wish, he knew, but maybe it would work.

The last thing he wanted was to go through his life knowing, that he had been lied to as a child. That he and his sister had been lied to. They had been lied to ever since Father took them in. How was he supposed to react? He felt sick, like he was going vomit. His stomach knotted, tighter, tighter, tighter and tighter still. He turned to the side of his bed and was sick. The vomit splattered to the floor and congealed into a puddle.

He stared at it for a while trying to remember the last time he had been sick at home. Had Father come in to his room? Or had it been one of the servants? A nursemaid? He was not sure. He shivered. How could he not recall who cared for him? Father had always been there when it came to advice about things like how to properly execute a spell, or the proper way to greet the Armenian dignitary or how to get a certain girl to join him in bed. Practical things. Things that made him seem like a perfect prin

Now he knew why. Father did not care about him or his well-being. Only what he could for him. It made Gunnar feel dirty. He was being used. Used. He was nothing more than a pawn or a tool.

And know he knew if he did not do what Father wanted, or disobeyed him he would be disposed of. Put in a cell in the dungeon, fed scraps and not allowed to see the light of day for the rest of his life.

And what would happen to Phoebe? She would never know the truth. She would live the rest of her life in ignorance. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that she did not know who her birth father really was. It was definitely better that she did not know that Father had Samuel cripple her. That she was married to man who mangled her leg. That the man who would be the father of her children did not love her and might never love any child would bear. But she would never know. She would be happier if she did not know. Safer too. Ignorance was bliss.

It was better that she did not feel like he did. So dirty. Disgusting. Filthy. Like he had been violated, somehow. He had to get the feeling off. Gunnar went to his dresser and stared into the mirror. He looked terrible. He had bags under his eyes, his skin looked clammy, his hair was sticky and matted with sweat and he had a bit of dried vomit on his chin.

He needed to bathe. Gunnar stripped down to his undershorts and dumped the rest of his clothes on the floor. He did not bother taking his robe. The household staff had seen him in his boxers many times before. He did not care who would see him.

Once in the bath, Gunnar turned the water to the hottest setting he could stand and dunked his head in. He held it under until his lungs felt they were going to burst from lack of oxygen. He took several deep breaths and went under again. The tub was fairly deep, the lip of the of the tub nearly reached above his waist when he stood. The taps were made of silver, and stood in a line up near the wall, right under a window, like soldiers, elegant, just like Father liked everything. The entire tub was surrounded by white curtain, intended for privacy, but was rarely used. There was room for several people to join him.

Gunnar was happy to have it himself, for once. No giggly girls, dressed in white, drunk on wine, kissing him, tugging on him, stroking him, rubbing him down with washcloths, willing to do anything for him. Usually, afterwards they would trot behind him, following him to his bedroom like it was some secret. But everyone knew.

It was nice to have a quiet bath for once. He could think. He pulled a washcloth from the side of the tub, dunked it in the water and began to scrub himself. But no matter how hard he scrubbed himself or dunked his head underneath the water, he could not get the disgusting feeling off himself. He rubbed his skin with the washcloth until his fingers pruned, his skin turned red and raw and his whole body reeked of citron body-wash.

But, he still felt disgusting. Gunnar wanted it to go away. Just to disappear. He wanted to forget, only because he knew he could not live with it. Just forget. Forget about what he read in Father's journal. And have things go back to the way they were.

He went back to his room, ignoring the hurt looks of the servant girls as he walked past. His room had been cleaned to the point that his wood floor practically sparkled. His clothes had been picked up, and his bed remade. Clean and perfect. Just the way Father liked it. With everything in its proper place.

Had Father arrived home yet? Would he notice that someone had been in his room? Would he notice that his drawers had been opened? Would he see that his journal had been read? And if he did, would he know who was in there? Would Father he had gone in there or would he think it was an overly curious servant?

He had to be ready. He had to be ready for Father. To fight, if he needed to. He had decided he wouldn't go without a fight. Father was good at telling when people were lying. And he, himself, was a horrible liar.

He slipped on a pair of simple gray trousers, and his favorite crimson shirt. He stared in the mirror as he brushed out and dried his hair. He was starting to grow a beard, fuzzy patches of light blonde hair on his chin and cheeks. He refused to shave it. He wanted it to grow. He had always thought of beards as powerful. Father found them unhygienic. The last thing he did was take his crown from its resting place on his dresser and place it on his head.

It rested lopsided, tilting towards his left ear. It was a child's crown, three simple bands of gold, silver and bronze braided together. It looked ridiculous on him. And now, he might never get the chance to wear a proper crown, one that would not rest against his ears and leave the top of his head uncovered. He wanted a helmet-type crown, one he could wear into battle, almost like Father's but with an adornment other than horns.

"Prince Gunnar, your father is home. He wants you to join him for supper in the dining room immediately."

"Alright."

Gunnar hurried out to the dining room, Father was already sitting at the head of a table, on his high-back chair, his hands folded in front of him, waiting.

Gunnar sat his usual place and helped himself to dinner; steak, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, a leg of pheasant… trying to distract himself, "How was the raid, Father?"

"We captured some undesirables. None of them were members of the Rebellion. Though according to witnesses the leaders of the Rebellion were seen fleeing the scene, one of them was severely injured. Since they most likely lack resources to care for such a severe wound, he probably took her to people he knew he could trust."

He nodded. He still knew little about the actual Rebellion, except the leader was in charge of the Avengers when they were first organized.

"Do you know where they may be hiding?

"Yes."

Gunnar felt a sudden pang of fear for the leaders, and anyone who would get in Father's way. Were there not children who were members of the Rebellion? Children who were just around his and his sister's age? What would happen to them? In another life, they would have been friends, almost brothers.

"What…what…what would…happen to them?"

"The leader and his…girlfriend" Father said with disdain, "will be put on trial for crimes against the kingdom…and the others will face a punishment that befits their crime. Do not worry; your sister's injury will not be in vain."

"Yes, Father.

Gunnar picked at his food and sipped at his wine. He nibbled on a roll. His appetite was gone.

"Everything alright, my son? Do you wish to eat something else?"

"No, thank you."

"Then follow me. I have something to show you."

Father put his arm around his shoulder, and led him through the palace. Gunnar kept his eyes in front of him. He tried to inch away, but Father's grip was strong and every time he tried to push away, Father would hold him tighter until he was right next to him walking in tandem like Siamese twins.

"Where are we going, Father?"

"It is a surprise."

Father led him to a door at the end of the hallway. His study. Gunnar froze, "I thought I was forbidden from entering this room.

"You are old enough now, you will be sixteen in a few months' time. You are nearly a man. You are ready to see what is inside."

A lump formed in his throat, "Okay."

He stepped into the room, his foot sunk into the carpeting. The room had not changed since he had been in there, a mere few hours before. But it felt different.

"Take a seat."

He sat on Father's chair and glanced around the room. Why did it feel different, now? Probably because, this time, he knew what was inside. The shield, the head, the weapons, the arc reactor…the diary.

Father walked around the room, slowly, dragging his fingers across the glass of the display cases, "Gunnar, do you know why I keep these?"

"No, I do not."

"When you win a battle, you take a trophy. Something to remind you of that day. Usually, something important that was important to the other person. Something they valued." Father bent down and took something from the lower part of a display case. He showed it to Gunnar, "Do you know what is in here?"

"No."

Father pulled out what looked like a shirt; small, purple and slightly tattered, "This belonged to your sister. It is what she was wearing, when I found her. Like the other items, in this room, it is a trophy."

"Why keep it?"

Father went back to his desk, ignoring his question. He folded up the shirt and put it away in a drawer. He went behind his desk, pulling the curtains back. Light streamed in. Something in Father's hand glinted and he began advancing to him. Father had a cold, look in his eye and he was grinning.

"Hold still, Gunnar. This will not hurt."

He was brandishing a scepter. He had heard about that scepter. Father had received it, from a being, a being from another species, another dimension, a powerful being. It was a dangerous weapon. It allowed Father to control people, their minds, their

Gunnar jumped from his seat and tried desperately to allow himself transport, let himself fade and disappear into the next room It did not work. He panicked and tried to run for the door. Father appeared before him.

"I told you to hold still, Gunnar. Do not make this harder than it needs to be."

Gunnar heard the lock of door click. He was trapped now. There was no way to escape. Gunnar sat frozen in fear, unable to move. There was no escape.. Father was the best sorcerer, the world had ever known. He would be killed before he could even transport himself to another room.

Father knelt in front of him, so close Gunnar smell his breath. Icy, fresh, like a winter's day. He put the scepter down.

If he could reach it, he could fight off... Father grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. He had a mad glint in his eyes. Something Gunnar had never seen before. He tried to look away but he could not.

Father started unbuttoning his shirt. It fell open. Gunnar shivered. Father just smiled, "That will make it easier to get to your heart."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Did you really think that I would not find out? I know you were in here. You know the truth."

How did he find out? How did he know?

Gunnar panicked, "I do not …"

Father struck him. His crown tumbled off his head and rolled away. Gunnar could not see where it went. Father blocked his view, "Do not lie to me, my son. Do you understand?

He nodded, holding his cheek. Gunnar could already feel a welt beginning to form, "I understand."

"Good boy. Now, tell me the truth. What do you know?"

"You killed my father. You killed him! He was your brother….Why?! Tell me!"

"He went against my rule. I had to. He would not accept freedom into his heart…but you…you were a little child. So young. So innocent. It was beautiful. I took you in, out of the goodness of my heart. Same with your sister. I had realized long ago how useful children were. How easy they were to manipulate. Make them do your bidding. Raise them for the future you want… And there you were. A prince. How could I deny you your birth-right?"

Father ruffled his hair. Gunnar tried to squirm away but Father kept his hand on the top of his head.

"How…how…how could you?"

"You would not understand.

"Why?"

Father's eyes still gleamed, only now, the gleam was softer, "Because, you have not accepted true freedom into your heart. You do not know how it feels. But I think once you experience it, you will enjoy it very much. Now, hold still."

Father came closer to him, grabbed the scepter and before Gunnar could react, held it up to his chest

A cold feeling spread through his body, starting at his heart and then creeping through his veins, to his arms, his hands, his fingers, his legs, his feet, his toes…Everything felt numb. Even his thoughts. There none. He was free. Free of all his worries, all of his fears, were gone.

Gunnar knelt and kowtowed, letting his forehead touch the ground. He kissed Father's boots.

Father went to his desk and opened a drawer, Gunnar could not tell which one. He pulled out a helmet, a pretty thing made of silver. It had its own pair of horns that curved downwards to his chin.

"Rise, Gunnar."

He did.

Father re-buttoned his shirt for him and placed a black leather cape over his shoulders and helped him get his arms into the sleeves, "There. You look much better now. You are almost ready to go into battle. We just need to get you a chest-plate, perhaps a pair of gauntlets and then you may join me in defeating the Rebellion. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful."

_(A/N: Let's take stock shall we? Phoebe is married and on her honeymoon in a foreign country with Samuel/Agent Cooper. Stevie and Bryan are presumably at Stark Tower. Gunnar is hypnotized. Agent Hill is badly injured and is hiding out with Director Fury at her parents' house. This can only mean one thing. Shit's going to go down. What kind? Stay tuned for the next chapter. I promise you won't have to wait too long! And if you would like, leave a review. They are always appreciated! Thanks a ton for reading!)_


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